


RE:Play

by Shiraume



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-17
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-24 17:09:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 64,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiraume/pseuds/Shiraume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of all things, an unexpected twist of fate causes a blast...from the past. [COMPLETE]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. RE:Wind

**Author's Note:**

> A Yugioh ~~divergent future~~ ~~alternate past~~ fic -- ARGH. It's a Yugioh fic, and by definition, timeline is optional feature and/or occasional bug. PG-13, ~64,000 words, drama, action, and romance. Yuugi/Other!Yuugi (Atem)/Kaiba. Set right after the manga ending, with occasional anime elements thrown in, just for the fun of it. This story starts at the end of the manga, so contains spoiler for, well, the entire series. You have been warned.
> 
> Comments are welcome!

  
**RE:Play**   


  


[5/29/2009 - 12/31/2010]

**RE:Wind**

In hindsight—

Scratch that. In retrospect, perhaps it shouldn’t have surprised Yuugi that the last sight he had of his Other Self – Atem – was that of Atem’s back. He’d spent so long staying (figuratively, and also often literally) behind Atem that it should have been a familiar sight to him. The Other Yuugi – _Atem_ – did not quite look back even as he gave them a thumbs-up, and continued to walk towards the light. One more step, and Atem would walk over the threshold of the gate and out of Yuugi’s life forever.

And Yuugi had only a split second to wonder, _really_ wonder, if he had done the right thing, if he shouldn’t have thought more about this, except it was too late now and—

~*~*~*~

Atem did not – dared not – look back because even he wasn’t that strong, King of Games or not. He knew if he saw Yuugi now, face still streaked with tears and probably looking as forlorn as an abandoned puppy, he _would_ falter. This was what he wanted, what Yuugi wanted for him, and it was for the best. Beyond the open gateway, he could see familiar shapes of his friends from three thousand years ago, outlined in bright light. This was where he belonged, in the afterlife, with those who were waiting for him. He had been only a brief passenger in Yuugi’s life, and he should be happy now that Yuugi was stronger even than him, and didn’t need him anymore.

And Atem was seized with an irresistible desire to look behind him just once more, like Orpheus at the threshold of the Underworld, to see Yuugi one last time. Except it was too late now, and one more step would take him over to the other side of the gate, and—

~*~*~*~

Light erupted from the open gateway, blinding them, and all of them reflexively turned away to shield their eyes. After the light finally faded, Jounouchi was the first to open his eyes and peek. The gateway to the Underworld was now firmly shut, as if it had never opened. There was no other change in the chamber, not even a shift in the dry air. At his side, Anzu was rubbing her eyes, probably wiping them dry with her sleeves. On his other side, Honda’s coattail rustled next to him as he looked about, and it was like any old day. There would be a time to grieve for their friend, but for now, they were together, and that had to be enough.

“Jounouchi...” Anzu’s voice trembled with the beginnings of panic. It took Jounouchi a moment to realize why.

There was no sign of Yuugi anywhere in the room.


	2. RE:Wind

**RE:Play**

  
[5/29/2009 - 12/31/2010]

**I. RE:Try**

_Chapter One_

“...Pharaoh?”

Cautiously, Atem opened his eyes. The blinding light was gone, and he was sitting in a chair behind a wooden desk. There was something stiff and brittle between his fingers, and he frowned at the sheet of papyrus he held, spread over the desk. He _had_ seen the vision of his friends from ancient Egypt before he crossed over, but this was a rather strange way to start his afterlife.

Siamun’s dark brows were knitted with worry. “My king?”

“Ah.” Atem blinked, and blink again. “Yes?” Siamun was standing before his desk, next to the Priest...Akhenaden?

Who wore a concerned look on his face. “My deepest apologies, pharaoh, but these reports are urgent. The people are growing anxious. If we let these bandits roam free any longer, when we are still recovering from the recent wars...”

“It troubles me too, pharaoh.” Siamun did not lose a beat. “According to the reports, it seems these bandits have a new leader, one even bolder and more cunning than the last. That he gained control over this bunch so quickly bodes ill for the future.”

Akhenaden nodded his agreement. “And he seems to know the area like the palm of his own hand. So far we’ve had no luck tracking his band. I suspect they may have a hideout within the royal city, and... Pharaoh?”

This had better be a dream. It had to be karmic injustice if he was expected to work in his afterlife after saving the world. Where was he, anyway? Was this really the afterlife, or some bizarre dream? Whichever it was, some deity somewhere must had been having a good laugh at his expense.

“Can I take a short break before I look at this?” First things first. It was a bit unnerving to have both elders looming over his desk, especially since the last memory he had of Akhenaden was of cruel laughter and dark energy saturating the air, thick enough to choke on, challenging him to a duel to the death. Also, Siamun’s piercing gaze, which had just now turned from worried to unimpressed, was making him feel all of three years old rather than three thousand. “I’m a bit tired,” he added, forcing himself to meet Siamun’s eyes. He knew this was not Yuugi’s grandfather, but the resemblance made it hard to remember.

Siamun didn’t look entirely convinced, but there was a definite hint of softening in Akhenaden’s somber countenance. “There is another report I would like you to take a look at, Lord Siamun. Perhaps we can present the rest to the pharaoh afterward?”

A quirk of the wizened brow, then Siamun relented. “Ah, yes. Perhaps a short rest in the harem, my king?”

Rest was good. Getting out of here was good. Because something screamed WRONGWRONGWRONG in his mind, and this whole situation was beginning to freak him out a bit. This was definitely not what he had expected when he crossed the gate to the Underworld.

“Yes, that would be good,” Atem said absently, and in his preoccupation, completely missed the surprise flicker on both his advisors’ faces. Thankfully, the attendants summoned to escort him were clearing the path for him at the same time, and Atem breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the entourage all but swept him away. Left behind, Siamun and Akhenaden looked at each other, stunned.

“The pharaoh must have been tired. He usually avoids having to visit the harem.” Siamun mused, hearing Akhenaden make a thoughtful hum. “A pity, too. Lady Meritatem has grown into a lovely young woman. If only the pharaoh would spend more time with her.”

Akhenaden nodded. The lack of marital affection between the pharaoh and his queen had been his longtime concern as well. “Lord Siamun, it is no longer appropriate to call her that, since she is now the great royal wife,” he said as a reminder, partly to himself. Even now, it was difficult to think of Meritatem as anything other than his sister’s little girl.

“Time flies, no? I remember when she first entered the harem, just a little thing of seven. Now you can see the living image of the late princess in her.”

Akhenaden’s eyes softened with fondness and sorrow. “She certainly carries herself with her mother’s grace and dignity. I’m sure one day the pharaoh will come to care for her deeply.”

“Now, if only young Seth would settle down with a nice young lady, no?” Siamun asked with a chuckle and a sly wink. Akhenaden’s concerns for the young priest were no secret to him. “Shall I have some recommendations sent?”

“That would be most kind,” Akhenaden replied with as much dignity as he could muster. “Now, about the reports...”

~*~*~*~

When the light from the gateway faded, Yuugi had expected to see Atem gone. (Which he did.) Yuugi had also expected to see the rest of his friends – Jounouchi, Honda, and Anzu, in particular – right behind him. (That he didn’t.) What he _hadn’t_ expected to see was a vaguely familiar hallway lined with a long row of thick stone columns . Beyond the peristyle peeked the courtyard, which was actually a garden with a surprising variety of plants. No matter how he looked, this looked like the Memory World. This was very, very unexpected.

Maybe he was having a really vivid dream? Yuugi tried pinching himself. Ouch, and nope, no such luck. Rubbing his cheek, Yuugi tried walking around next. Nothing. Was it possible that he was back inside the Memory World? Yuugi looked up at the endlessly clear sky, but there was no glinting gold of inverted pyramid anywhere, not even a spot of cloud resembling one. This was not very encouraging. And why was he alone?

Of all his experiences of the supernatural and unusual, this was definitely boding towards Not Good. Yuugi closed his eyes and groaned. He’d thought his adventuring days had finally ended. What now? Suddenly feeling weary, Yuugi leaned on one of the stone columns before he remembered he couldn’t touch anything in the Memory World.

...Wait a minute. The column felt solid under his hand: smooth stone roughened with etchings, and sun-warmed.

“Pharaoh?”

Yuugi whipped around at the sound, and felt his eyes grow even rounder. A lady in ancient Egyptian garment stood there looking at him. Half a dozen similarly-dressed women stood a couple steps behind her, their eyes respectfully lowered. A pretty lady, Yuugi decided after a moment. Not beautiful like Anzu or Mai, but slender, with dark hair and smooth, dark olive skin. The lady’s dark eyes studied him for a moment, then suspicion flickered in them.

“Who are you?”

Well, that clinched it. This world wasn’t the Memory World. Or, if it was, somehow it had turned real. The lady’s attendants were now all staring at him, too, beginning to look horrified. One of them let out a strangled sound, like she wanted to scream but didn’t quite dare, but the lady held up a hand, and the girl quieted.

“This place is forbidden to outsiders,” the lady said to him, not unkind, but stern. “How did you get in here?”

“Make way for the pharaoh!” A voice cried, just around the corner, and the rest of the women started, then knelt down at once with heads bowed. The lady, who remained standing, briefly looked surprised before her expression smoothed over, and Yuugi had no time for anything more before a group rounded the corner and stopped before them.

“...Other Me?” Yuugi whispered, or tried to, but his voice seemed frozen somewhere in his chest, unable to claw its way out. Atem’s eyes widened minutely, and Yuugi knew Atem heard him anyway.

“Aibou?!”

~*~*~*~

“...And that’s how I found myself here.” Yuugi finished, nervously glancing at the guards and attendants waiting near the doorway. “How did you—?”

Atem sighed. “Same way you did. When the light faded, I was here. Well, in my office, I think.”

It was a good thing Atem rarely remained flustered for long. Yuugi himself had remained tongue-tied while Atem, recovering himself only a heartbeat later, declared Yuugi was an emissary of the gods who had come to visit him, made excuses to the lady (whom Yuugi now realized was the queen; all of Atem’s attendants had knelt when they saw her), and whisked Yuugi back to the pharaoh’s private chambers.

“So where are we? This looks like ancient Egypt from the Memory world.” A less likely version of the events hit him then, and by the tight look on Atem’s face, the same idea had occurred to his Other Self as well. “...Don’t tell me we’re actually _in_ Egypt? As in three thousand years ago in the past?”

“It’s a possibility,” Atem admitted reluctantly. “If this is the Memory World, nobody should be able to see you, since you’re not part of my memories. But you _exist_ here, as I do. I don’t think this is another Shadow Game, either, and...” The Millennium Puzzle glinted in the light, fastened around Atem’s neck with a leather cord. “The Puzzle. It feels...whole. Different.” His fingers hovered near the golden surface, but did not touch it. “New.”

“Did...did I do something wrong?” That had been a niggling doubt in Yuugi’s mind. “What if I messed up somehow?”

Atem’s eyes, which had turned distant for a moment, sharpened instantly, focused solely on Yuugi. “No, aibou. You did everything right. The question is, why did we both end up here? And,” his eyes narrowed, brows knitting together in a frown, “more importantly, how can we send you back to the future , where you belong?”

It hit Yuugi then: if he did go home, then he would have to say goodbye to Atem _again_. Technically, he’d said his goodbyes already, right after their final duel, except he’d been too distraught to say it properly. But now that they were in the past, when Atem was still living, what would happen to him once Yuugi left?

“Aibou?”

Yuugi started, realizing his hand had made its way to Atem’s cheek without his knowledge. Atem hadn’t pulled away from the touch, though he looked puzzled. Just after the duel, Atem had laid a hand on Yuugi’s shoulder, the very first _physical_ touch Atem had ever given him. As comforting as it had been, the touch had torn him apart then, because it was clear that the first time was also going to be the last. But here, they could touch so easily. All he had to do was to reach out.

“What about you?” Slowly, Yuugi took his hand away, embarrassed he’d let his hand linger so long. Come to think of it, this was the first time Yuugi had ever touched Atem physically. And Atem was so warm, so very much alive... “What will happen to you when I’m gone?”

Atem frowned. “I’m not sure. I’d thought once I cross the gate, I would simply enter the afterlife. Nevertheless, our duel was over. There is no reason why you should still be involved in this.” Thoughtfully, Atem fingered the edge of the golden pyramid. “I don’t think Millennium Items have the power to move time. Perhaps we could—”

“Pharaoh?” Mahaad was at the doorway, looking apologetic for the interruption. “Lord Siamun sends word that the reports are ready.”

Atem, to his credit, looked annoyed for only a second before a speculative look replaced it. After letting Mahaad fidget for another long minute, Atem’s lips curved slowly. “Very well. And good timing. I’d meant to summon you, Mahaad.”

Mahaad, who had begun to look a tad nervous, was instantly alert. “What would you have me do, pharaoh?”

“This is Yuugi, an emissary from the gods.” Yuugi refrained from twitching with the sheer force of will. Atem didn’t even glance at him, the jerk. “I would like you to accompany Yuugi around the palace, to protect him and to see to his comfort. And answer any questions,” Atem added almost as an afterthought. “Let all know that Yuugi is to be treated with utmost respect. We will meet again here later, ai—Yuugi, to talk more.”

There was nothing Yuugi could do except nod, resigned to wait until Atem was done with whatever duties he had to finish. At least he had Mahaad for company, and Mahaad had kind eyes. He might not make much issue of Yuugi being...out of place. Which, when he thought about it, was probably why Atem chose Mahaad in the first place. The brief pleasantries finished, Atem strode out of the room, leaving Yuugi with Mahaad, and the attendants who were doing their best not to openly stare at Yuugi with great curiosity.

“Would you like any refreshments, Divine One?”

Yuugi almost stammered out an embarrassed denial, only to recover himself with slightest hint of a blush staining his cheeks. All right, it _was_ short notice, and yes, it did prevent people from asking awkward questions. But did Atem have to choose that for a cover story? For the first time, he thanked the fact Jounouchi, Honda, and Anzu weren’t here; they’d never have let him live this down.

“Ah—could we maybe walk around the palace? I haven’t really had a chance to see much last time—” _Whoops. Backtrack!_ “I mean, before,” Yuugi finished lamely. Thankfully, if Mahaad found his words odd, the priest didn’t let it show.

“It will be my pleasure,” Mahaad bowed, then turned to lead the way. “If you please, Divine One, I can also have the bath prepared for your use afterward.”

“Um, that’d be great, thanks. And could you just call me Yuugi?” Perhaps he shouldn’t have said that, but being called ‘Divine One’ was really beginning to bother him. To his surprise, Mahaad only looked at him with a bit of surprise and...fondness?

“If you wish...Lord Yuugi.”

With a wave of his hand, Mahaad dismissed the attendants, and Yuugi let out an inaudible sigh of relief to be with just Mahaad. Atem had specified he was to be treated with utmost respect, but he hadn’t forbidden people from staring at him. And _everyone_ was staring at him.

“This garden was expanded during the reign of the previous king, Pharaoh Akhnamkanen . The garden for the harem was also renovated at that time to add a large pond. If you would like to see it, the sacred blue lotus is in full bloom.” Mahaad paused to look at him, and Yuugi, who had only half-listened to the explanation while looking around him in wonder, flushed.

“Uh...that sounds great. Thank you.”

“If I may presume to ask...” Mahaad hesitated, and Yuugi turned to blink at him quizzically. “How is it that you know the pharaoh, Lord Yuugi? It appeared to me that you know him very well, and he you. Yet we have never seen or heard of you until today.” A slight frown touched his brow as Mahaad’s brown eyes, mild yet piercing, regarded Yuugi. “Forgive my impertinence, Lord Yuugi, but as one of the pharaoh’s servants, I cannot help but worry.”

The concern in Mahaad’s eyes was sincere, and Yuugi felt inexplicably relieved: Mahaad obviously cared for Atem deeply. Had their positions been reversed, he, too, would have questioned the same thing. It was comforting to know someone like Mahaad had been at Atem’s side 3,000 years ago. At the same time, Yuugi couldn’t help feeling envious. Here was someone who had a chance to get to know Atem in life, watched Atem’s back, and had worked with him. Even though the two of them had shared a body for nearly two years, being in the same body meant that one of them had to remain a spectator during most of their time together. That had been why Yuugi had insisted on facing Pegasus himself, despite the dangers; it was one of the rare times he had had a chance to to fight alongside Atem rather than simply watching.

And there was Mahaad’s uncanny resemblance to the Black Magician. And hadn’t Black Magician looked exactly like Mahaad when Yuugi summoned him in the Memory World? The strange sense of familiarity, the same _feeling_ surrounding the Black Magician also surrounded Mahaad, and Yuugi was certain: Mahaad had something to do with the Black Magician. Possibly _was_ the Black Magician. Either way, this was someone he could trust, someone who would be a loyal friend to the end.

“It’s...a long story.” Yuugi paused. ‘I know him from the time he was sharing my body as the spirit of a nameless pharaoh 3,000 years later in the future’ was probably not the best way to explain. “I really am not from this world, though. In...another world, you might say, we got to know each other very well.” And could he be more vague, please? He honestly couldn’t expect Mahaad to believe him now, could he? “It’s just that...I don’t know how to explain any of this, either. But he’s the best friend I’ve ever had, and...”

Mahaad’s expression was unreadable. Yuugi did not look away despite growing unease and embarrassment. He couldn’t offer the whole truth, or a real explanation, but he _could_ offer his sincerity. It was probably lucky, Yuugi mused wryly, that Atem had the foresight to entrust him to Mahaad and not the priest who looked like Kaiba; if the Kaiba-look-alike was anything like Kaiba, Yuugi would have landed in the dungeons faster than he could say “Blue-Eyes.”

“I believe you,” Mahaad said after a long scrutiny of his face, and Yuugi was equal parts startled and relieved. “You resemble the pharaoh a great deal, Lord Yuugi. And not just in physical appearance.”

“...Would you mind not calling me that? ‘Lord Yuugi,’ I mean,” Yuugi asked, fighting down another blush. “It sounds...well, it makes me kind of uncomfortable when you do.”

The smile Mahaad gave him in response was fleeting but warm. “You really do remind me of my prince when he was young.” With a slight inclination of his head, Mahaad capitulated with easy grace. “Yuugi, then. Would you like to continue looking around? Pharaoh likely will not return until the evening.”

“Yes, please.” Curiosity overcame decorum, as Yuugi remembered this was someone who had actually known Atem, and he might never get another chance like this. “Can I ask how long you’ve known Atem? I mean, the pharaoh?”

Mahaad considered the question briefly. “A little over ten years. The prince was only five years old when we first met.” A fond look in his eyes made him wonder what kind of child his Other Self had been.

“So...you said we have some time to kill before Atem comes back.” Mahaad nodded. “Well, then,” Yuugi did not rub his hands together in glee, but only with considerable effort. “Do you think you could tell me what Atem was like? When he was little, I mean?”

Mahaad looked like he was trying not to laugh. “I don’t think the pharaoh will appreciate me sharing stories from his childhood.” Yuugi was not going to pout. He was seventeen years old and a boy, damn it, a young _man_ , even. He was not going to— “...And I think you might prefer talking to someone else about that,” Mahaad amended quickly. Maybe pouting wasn’t effective just on Anzu (not that he was admitting to it or anything, but still). “You really do remind me of the prince when he was young,” Mahaad said darkly. “Let me see if I can have Mana summoned here.”

This time, Yuugi couldn’t stop the smile that slowly spread on his face. “How long did you say we have?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've arbitrarily chosen to use both dub spellings and my own spellings for names, mainly because my primary concern for this fic was making them look authentic within reasonable limits (i.e., Isis as given in canon rather than Aset/Iset, but Siamun instead of Shimon, and Atem for the god Atum [itm; rendered Atem or Tem]).
> 
> Yes, I've given Atem a wife (an original character - wait wait, bear with me here!), because nobody in ancient Egypt would have let a prince near the throne without a wife or a dozen. She's not important for the fic, so rest assured - Atem barely remembers she existed! In fact, Meritatem's name ("beloved of Atem") is meant to be ironic, and she is from a (entirely fictional) family tree I created for my own headcanon version of the past, which I use for most of my stories.


	3. I. RE:Try - Chapter Two

  


**RE:Play**  


  


[5/29/2009 - 12/31/2010]

**I. RE:Try**  


_Chapter Two_

It was actually after dinnertime that Atem finally escaped his ministers and returned to his chambers. Atem, who had brightened at the sight of Yuugi perched on the balcony, paled when he heard just what Mana was telling him that had Yuugi laughing so much.

...The particular tale, which involved a nine-year-old Atem, a thirteen-year-old Seth, and the temple’s wine storage they’d stumbled upon was best left untold and forgotten. Preferably until the next apocalypse or later.

“I see you’ve kept Yuugi busy in my absence,” Atem said, loudly enough to interrupt Mana’s increasingly animated narrative. Mana, as he expected, chirped out a happy greeting and promptly jumped on him, nearly knocking him over. Mahaad was torn between looking embarrassed and apologetic, and Atem quirked an eyebrow at him. Judging from Yuugi’s all too innocent expression, the idea of calling Mana to entertain Yuugi wasn’t entirely Mahaad’s fault. Hmm. “Have they been good company?” he asked Yuugi, trusting him to pick out the undertone of his words.

Yuugi, for his part, merely smiled back brightly. “The best.”

“If you’re finished, there are things I need to discuss with Yuugi alone.”

Mana looked like she wanted to protest, but Mahaad beat her to the punch with more tact. “Of course, pharaoh. I’ve had servants prepare a room for Yuugi in the adjacent quarters to yours.” His words carried a question, and Atem nodded his approval.

“Thank you, Mahaad.” He wasn’t actually going to let Yuugi sleep in another room, but Mahaad didn’t need to know that.

“Have a pleasant night, my king, Yuugi.” Mahaad bowed deeply to Atem and Yuugi, then backed up respectfully to leave. But Mana, being Mana, paused at the doorway to wave at them both, with a wink and a promise to see Yuugi tomorrow. He really, really should have remembered Mana would take to Yuugi instantly. What was he thinking when he asked Mahaad to accompany Yuugi? If Mahaad was involved, that Mana would tag along was a given.

“Anything interesting you’d like to share, aibou?” His question held a trace of irony, which melted away when Yuugi’s smile warmed.

“A lot, but I’m not sure if you’d like to hear them.”

“No doubt,” Atem murmured, amused. Yuugi looked happy. This was the most relaxed the two of them had been since Yuugi completed the Puzzle. They’d had precious little time to relax with threat after threat fate threw at them in turn. And any amount of embarrassing childhood stories was worth it to see Yuugi so relaxed and happy. “Your day was probably better than mine, anyway.” He’d spent the entire afternoon and evening sorting out the reports and listening to his ministers argue about what to do: from what he could remember, pretty much a typical day of his life. After his first journey through his Memory World, he _had_ regained his memories, but not necessarily in a sequential order; and definitely not everything, given large chunks of his earliest memories were still fuzzy. (All the more reason to keep Mana from regaling Yuugi with stories he didn’t even remember well enough to refute.) He had a good guess who was leading these raids, and the thoughts of what would happen once the Thief King became bold enough to venture into the royal tombs dampened his good mood.

“Other Me?” Yuugi’s worried eyes swam into his view, and Atem blinked. “You look really tired.”

“I dare you to last a day in my life. I’d take the Shadow Games over listening to my ministers any day,” Atem said, voiced deliberately pitched for levity. He was only half successful. “It looks like Bakura’s been leading raids into the city. The last one was within the shouting distance from the palace.”

“The Bakura-kun who was in the Ring?” Yuugi’s expression was tight, all trace of earlier ease gone, and Atem inwardly sighed. Perhaps he shouldn’t have mentioned it. With luck, Yuugi wouldn’t have to stay here for long, and neither would he. He ignored the part it would mean they would have to say goodbye to each other again. No use living in the past, as Jounouchi would say, though Jounouchi had never quite managed to inject this much irony into the words.

“They don’t know. I would guess so, but I could be wrong.” The next words were harder to say, and Atem had to take a moment to push the words out of his throat. “Nevertheless, all the more reason for you to go back as soon as possible. And hopefully, I won’t have to stay, either. I’d really rather not go through the same life three times.”

Yuugi’s face was instantly lit with understanding. “Zorc. If Bakura-kun is making his appearance, then Zorc can’t be too far behind.” The first time Atem encountered Zorc, Atem had sacrificed his life and soul to seal the evil god, and ended up being imprisoned in the shattered Millennium Puzzle for three millennia. The second time...

“Let’s retrace our steps. Ishizu and Malik took us to the Temple of the Underworld. We had our duel, and when I lost, the Gate to the Underworld opened.” Atem frowned, one hand automatically reaching for the Puzzle. “Malik said the inscription in the Temple spoke of a battle ceremony. And that I couldn’t start my journey to the afterlife holding a sword in my hand.”

Yuugi forced his thoughts away from Zorc, and tried to focus. “And we thought that meant you had to lose in a duel to move on. What if there was more than that? There were a lot of inscriptions there.”

“You don’t remember all of them, do you?” Atem’s question wasn’t a real question, and Yuugi shook his head. “I don’t, either. So we can't know if we misinterpreted the words, or didn’t realize there were other parts to the ceremony. But I don’t think that’s likely. Ishizu must have looked over the whole place carefully before contacting us.”

“Well... before, we’d all entered the Memory World using the stone tablet. I mean, the one with you and the priest who looks like Kaiba-kun?”

“Seth’s stone tablet probably doesn’t exist yet. He didn’t make that until after I died.” Yuugi’s face darkened at the mention of it, but Atem, preoccupied with another thought, didn’t notice. “But the Temple of the Underworld -- if we can find it here...”

Yuugi was startled out of his darker thoughts. “Actually, I asked Mahaad and he said there was one temple built during your father’s time that might be it. But he says he’s never been there. And no one knows where it is.”

It was a bit unsettling to realize Yuugi had been more active trying to solve their problem than he was. Because Yuugi was usually so unassuming, one tended to forget just how sharp he was (his test scores not withstanding). “Strange. Other people aside, for _Mahaad_ to not know...” Then, something else occurred to him, and he frowned. “The Stone of King’s Memories.”

“What about it?”

“The Temple of the Underworld that Ishizu took us to. The Stone was there, on a platform, right before the Gate to the Underworld.”

“Yes.” Yuugi looked at him curiously, unsure where Atem was going with it.

Atem shook his head, a wry look crossing his face. “I forgot. I know where the Temple is. We can visit tomorrow. Hopefully we can find something there.”

“So we’re pretty sure this isn’t the afterlife, right?” Yuugi meant it as a joke, but Atem stiffened.

“Of course not. If it is, you wouldn’t be here.” Atem’s voice was harsher than he intended, but he couldn’t help himself. The Gate to the Underworld had opened for _him_ , not for Yuugi. It couldn’t be Yuugi’s time yet. He wouldn’t let it be otherwise.

Yuugi did not meet his eyes. He’d said his goodbye to Atem, through their last duel. He’d been ready, even before Ishizu and Malik said anything, for the eventuality that Atem would leave him. Having defeated Zorc, there was no reason for Atem to stay in the living world any longer. And 3,000 years were a long time for any restless spirit. If anyone had earned his rest, it was Atem.

But it was harder to remember that here, face to face with an Atem who was as alive as he was. Not his Other Self or the spirit of the nameless pharaoh, but his own person, someone who could be touched and could touch him back and was _real_. It had been difficult enough to say goodbye when Atem was only a spirit. How much worse would it be this time?

“You’re alive here, too, Other Me,” Yuugi pointed out before he could stop himself, and almost clapped a hand to his mouth. _Real smooth there, Yuugi,_ chimed a sarcastic voice in his head, which sounded disturbingly like Anzu. _Way to make him feel better: just remind him this is another fake life._

Because that _had_ been the reason Yuugi was willing to say goodbye to Atem. He hadn’t minded sharing his body with Atem, not really. After Death-T, once the two of them became completely aware of each other, Atem had been the person Yuugi trusted the most, along with Jounouchi, Honda, and Anzu. Not long after, the incident at Black Crown had shaken him badly, because it made him realize how easily the Puzzle could be taken from him, and their connection severed. His Other Self was strong, but as long as he remained a spirit bound to the Puzzle, he was also vulnerable: like the proverbial genie of the lamp, with just as much power (maybe) and freedom -- or the lack thereof. It was unfair to ask Atem to stay trapped in a half-life, where Atem could never truly be free or be his own person. Besides, Atem would never have consented to taking half of Yuugi’s life like that.

For the longest time, Atem did not answer. Yuugi cringed, wondering how he could diffuse...well, not quite tension, but the silence was going on too long and Atem was still looking everywhere but at him.

“Don’t do that,” Atem said softly, and Yuugi didn’t realize he’d been chewing on his lower lip until Atem gently pulled his lip free with a thumb. Atem’s fingers were warm, resting lightly against his skin.

“Other Me?” Yuugi tried to say, except his voice seemed to have decided to go on a vacation and forgot to leave a memo. The fingers slid up, followed by a warm palm cupping the side of his jaw, and Yuugi almost blushed. It was an innocent gesture, really, but Atem had never touched him like this before, with his own, solid fingers brushing against Yuugi’s bare skin. Atem’s touch wasn’t soft like Anzu’s occasional, oft-unconscious touch. But not rough either, like the near-chokehold that passed for hugs from Jounouchi. It was warm, present, and real.

“It’s strange. We shared your body for two years. We talked to each other all the time since the Duelist Kingdom. We even touched each other’s minds as we switched. Yet this is the first time I can actually _touch you_.” A callused thumb brushed over his cheekbone, with just enough pressure that Yuugi could feel the light push into the skin. Atem’s fingers rested against the side of his throat for a moment, and Yuugi looked away from the intense look in Atem’s eyes. The simple gesture felt...too intimate. Surely some of the heat he felt on his face and neck was coloring his skin bright red. His skin felt too tight, too hot, and had Atem’s gaze always been so overwhelming? “Aibou...”

The whispered word sent a breath of heated air across his face, tickling his skin, and Yuugi leaned back, flustered. He hadn’t actually moved back all that much, a mere shift in his position really, but Atem drew back instantly, breaking the contact. When Yuugi risked a glance at Atem’s face, his eyes were distant, made even darker with the kohl delicately framing the slant of the lids. His eyelashes cast brushed shadows in the flickering firelight that lit up the darkness of the chamber.

Atem’s lips held the tint of ripe peach.

“We should go to bed now. I will arrange for our visit tomorrow morning. The trip won’t take long.”

“Tomorrow?” So soon? He’d met Atem again only moments after parting –- for good, he thought, at the time -- but they’d spent scarcely an hour together with all the confusion.

“The sooner, the better. If Bakura is on the move, then we may not have much time before he strikes. I don’t want you caught in the crossfire.”

“I could help you.”

Atem shook his head with a barely perceptible curve of his mouth, but his eyes were too guarded for a real smile. “You already have.”

Yuugi heard both gratitude and dismissal in the same words, and felt an unfamiliar stirring in his gut. Belatedly, he recognized it as anger, and surprise delayed him for one crucial moment to collect his thoughts. He could not remember the last time he’d been angry with Atem. Actually, he could not remember ever being angry with Atem. There was, Yuugi thought grimly, a first time for everything.

“I defeated you in our last duel.”

Atem’s brows furrowed in a fleeting frown. “Yes.”

“What else do I have to do before you see me as an equal and not someone you have to protect all the time?”

It was shock, Yuugi knew, that shattered the guarded look in Atem’s eyes, however briefly. “I don’t... Aibou, this isn’t about that at all. Both our roles in this story are over. Neither of us should even be here. And you already did everything you possibly could, and more. I don’t know what caused this, but you shouldn’t have to—”

“You’re doing it again, aren’t you?” Yuugi interrupted, voice calm, but tightly controlled. Anger wasn’t alien to him, but until now his default reaction to it had been to diffuse and dismiss it. Holding on to anger, especially against someone precious to him, felt strange. “You tried to keep your meeting with Ishizu-san a secret from me so I wouldn’t worry. Because it was _your_ fight.”

“Aibou!”

“Do you even mean it when you call me that?” Yuugi challenged, unflinching even when Atem’s eyes flashed. Anger and Atem were a familiar sight together, but Yuugi had never been on the receiving end of it before. And Atem’s anger was a frightening thing, like looking at an encroaching storm without shelter, yet all the more compelling because of it. A part of him was horrified that he was deliberately hurting and provoking Atem like this. Yet, another part of him was fascinated by the passion of Atem’s fury, hot and quick and brilliant, like lightening before the thunder.

“Never ask me that.” Atem’s voice was low and clipped. Under the rough surface of the anger, there were jagged edges of hurt, and the latter made Yuugi’s own anger falter, evaporating like mist.

“Do you honestly expect me to leave you behind to take care of this alone?” Yuugi asked, voice quiet and gentle. If he hadn’t been watching closely, Yuugi would never have believed how quickly and deeply his words could affect Atem. The fury melted away, replaced by something warm and soft, like the touch of Atem’s hand. Yuugi thought he could almost feel that slow and reverent touch again in exquisite detail.

“First things first.” Atem’s voice floated to his ears. “We should go to the Temple of the Underworld tomorrow and look at the inscriptions again. It might help us find out how we can leave this place.”

Yuugi nodded. “We should ask Mahaad to come with us.”

“And Isis,” Atem added. The set of his shoulders was less rigid than before, and Yuugi realized that he hadn’t ever seen Atem relax, not entirely. Even when there was no threat, Atem was never completely at ease. There were always some hints of tension in him, like a wound spring never fully released.

Wait, Isis? “Who’s Isis?”

“One of the priests. She holds the Millennium Tauk. She looks a lot like Ishizu,” Atem added, almost as an afterthought. “I think you’ve seen her in the Memory World before.”

“Her name’s similar, too. I think I know which one you’re talking about. And there’s that Kaiba-kun look-alike.” Coincidence? Unlikely; Yuugi had developed a healthy dose of disbelief for such notion since meeting Atem.

Atem’s gaze turned contemplative. “I never told you one of my advisors looks exactly like grandpa, did I?” Yuugi, eyes round, shook his head. “The one that looks like Kaiba probably _is_ Kaiba, if Ishizu is right about the reincarnation theory. And his name,” Atem quirked a brow at Yuugi, “is _Seth_.”

Yuugi remembered another thing from the stone tablet, and groaned. “And he just happens to hold the Blue-Eyes White Dragon, right? Anyone else I should know about?”

“Well, there’s Karim, who looks like Rishid. I don’t think I saw anyone else.” Atem’s tone made it clear he was thinking exactly what Yuugi was thinking himself.

“Bakura-kun, Kaiba-kun, Ishizu-san, grandpa, and Rishid-san.” Atem didn’t so much as shrug. “Next thing I know, I’ll find Jounouchi-kun, Honda-kun, and Anzu, too, won’t I?”

“There’s also you.” Atem’s eyes slid over to him, and Yuugi turned a quizzical expression at him. “You and I look almost exactly alike, too. I’m not sure how much of that is coincidence.”

“But I’m pretty sure I’m not the reincarnation of...you.” This conversation, Yuugi decided, was fast taking a turn for the weird. “I think. I mean, how can a person reincarnate without the soul?”

Atem looked equally amused and annoyed, though not at Yuugi. “The soul in Egyptian sense is not quite that simple, aibou. There is Ib the heart, Sheut the shadow, Ren the name, Ba the soul, and Ka the spirit, all of which make up a person’s soul. There is also the Akh, the living intellect, which is reanimated when the Ka and Ba reunite after physical death. Or born, depending on the way you look at it.

“When I sealed Zorc, I also sealed both my spiritual essence and my Ren within the Puzzle. Without them, I couldn’t enter the afterlife. But that doesn’t account for all parts of my soul as a whole.”

“So you could have been reincarnated? With just the remaining parts?”

This time, Atem did shrug. “Maybe. But Seth...now, he _feels_ just like Kaiba. Like Mahaad and Mana, and Black Magician and Black Magician Girl.”

“So Mana is Black Magician Girl?”

“That is her Ka, yes. Black Magician was Mahaad’s Ka. Although Black Magician is a bit different.” Atem’s expression tightened as he said that, and Yuugi reached out to take his hand without thinking.

“Would now be a good time to ask you what a Ka does?” Yuugi asked, and Atem, in his distraction, didn’t even seem to notice the gesture. Thank God for small favors.

“Ka is the manifestation of a person’s...spirit. Let’s say the immortal part of your soul is the Ba. Your Ka would be your spirit taking a physical form. So someone who holds a lot of evil in their heart will bring forth an evil Ka, and vice versa. The stronger the evil grows, the stronger the Ka grows. So the priests use the Millennium Items to extract evil Ka from people’s heart, and seal them into stone tablets.”

“I’m afraid to ask,” Yuugi started slowly. “ _That’s_ what Pegasus based the Duel Monsters on?”

Atem gave him a wry look. “So it would seem. He did base the Duel Monsters cards on the stone carvings, including the three God Cards. But he may not have known where they originally came from.”

“Blue-Eyes?”

Atem didn’t quite frown. “I’m not entirely sure. I’ve seen priests summon their own Ka, or summon the Ka kept sealed in the Temple of the Stone Tablets. By the time I found Seth, the Blue-Eyes had already been extracted. But the Blue-Eyes didn’t feel like a normal Ka when I faced it.” Freshly extracted, possibly from the white-haired girl lying dead behind Seth. But if the girl had died from the process, it wasn’t a normal Ka extraction, which shouldn’t leave the host dead. What _had_ happened then, that Seth would abandon himself to the darkness? The sorrow and regret permeating Seth’s soul had given the Dark Priest an opening into Seth’s heart. Perhaps, if Ka and Ba of a living soul had been torn from the body, like what Mahaad did with the Black Magician, but against the host’s will... “I think the Dark Priest forced out the Blue-Eyes White Dragon from a living person, both Ka and Ba.”

Yuugi paled. “What would forcing out both someone’s Ka and Ba do?”

“...Killed her, most likely,” Atem concluded grimly. “I don’t know what she was to Seth. But that’s what I can gather from the state I found them in. But the Blue-Eyes didn’t obey the Dark Priest, and freed Seth instead.”

If that was the case, then no wonder Kaiba was so fanatically attached to the Blue-Eyes White Dragon. Once upon a time, the Blue-Eyes had saved him from the darkness. Did some part of Kaiba remember that? Yuugi wondered.

“Does everyone have Ka? I mean, that can be summoned?”

Atem blinked, pulling out of the memory. “I don’t know. Ka is a manifestation of what a person harbors in their heart. Not everyone may have something strong enough to manifest in that way. Blue-Eyes and Black Magician are probably exceptions, not the rule.”

Yuugi wasn’t that tired, but he wasn’t confident he wouldn’t say or do something stupid if their conversation lasted any longer. Like ruffling Atem’s hair. Would it feel like Yuugi’s own hair did? Atem’s hand felt certainly different from his own, more callused, warmer, and with harder joints.

“So...early day tomorrow?” Atem nodded. For all that he looked just as alert as usual, Atem didn’t seemed to notice they were still holding hands. Yuugi hid a smile. “Where do I sleep?”

Atem hesitated for a brief second. “Mahaad said he prepared a room for you,” Atem offered neutrally. “If you prefer.”

Ah, so Atem _did_ want to share the room. It was almost funny, that Atem would be so reserved about this when they’d shared a body for two years. Of course, that meant the two of them never had to figure out some things, such as the logistics of two people sharing a bed meant for one.

“...Can we both fit on your bed?” Yuugi asked, somewhat skeptical, glancing at what he assumed was the bed, surrounded by a large canopy, which he could just see beyond the doorway connecting the antechamber and the inner bedroom. It didn’t look all that big, even for someone their size.

“A good question.” A hint of humor touched Atem’s expression. “It would be a tight fit at best. I do not recommend sleeping on the floor, however. I will have another bed brought to the room.”

“I was thinking maybe I should do that myself? I mean...I don’t want to trouble anyone.”

Atem looked amused at that. “These beds are smaller than the beds you’re used to, but they _are_ made of wood. Besides, how would I ever explain what we’re doing to the servants?”

Right. The pharaoh of Egypt, carrying a bed to his room. Mahaad and Mana might be lenient with a lot of oddities on Yuugi’s part, but the rest of the palace wouldn’t be so accepting. While Atem called the servants and gave orders, Yuugi wandered out to the balcony. Even at night, torches were lit throughout the palace, illuminating the ever-watchful guards standing at attention. Atem’s balcony overlooked the palace courtyard, the royal city barely visible beyond the towering walls that enveloped the sprawling complex of palace and temples. The twin peaks of the pylon gate rising above the walls cast dark shadows under the moon, cutting an even more imposing figure than during the day. Yuugi remembered the rows of ram-headed sphinxes lining the avenues and the path leading to the front gate. Their magnificence did exactly what they were supposed to: inspire awe for those who lived inside the palace. These were the people who communicated with the gods daily, who were one with the gods in life and death.

“Aibou? Your bed is ready.”

The torchlight flickered behind Atem, casting a warm glow outlining his figure. Seeing Atem without the cape was strange; even when Atem was in Yuugi’s body, the school jacket, so unflattering on everyone else, had hung on Atem like a flowing cape. Without the golden collar, the whiteness of linen was more pronounced next to Atem’s darker skin. And Atem’s legs were bare now, only a pair of sandals on his feet. It struck Yuugi just how short Atem really was; only the way he carried himself made him seem taller. Yet the compact frame was all wiry strength underneath. Funny, he’d never noticed the subtle contour of the muscles on Atem’s forearms, or the shape of those slender calves. He was reasonably sure he’d never looked quite that good, and wondered, not for the first time, what Anzu had seen when she saw Atem in control of his body. True, whenever he took over, Atem moved with grace and poise that Yuugi couldn’t emulate, but surely his body couldn’t have magically developed muscles he never had whenever the two of them switched minds?

“Aibou?”

“Um, yes? Sorry.” He was _not_ imagining Atem in their old outfit, the clinging black shirt and pants that looked painted on with all the buckles and chains... Argh! “Bedtime?”

“Indeed.” Atem’s lips quirked, just shy of imperceptible. “Do I look that strange?”

“Um, no?” The only thing strange here was the way he kept noticing how the torchlight made Atem’s skin glow. “Why?”

Atem made a dismissive sound, turning around and heading back inside. “You keep staring at me.” The glance he threw over one shoulder was playful, and... Yuugi’s eyes traveled down Atem’s back, noting the way the muscles in Atem’s thighs flexed as he walked, and hastily looked back up, guilty blush stealing over his face. Something flickered behind Atem’s eyes, too quick for Yuugi to identify, and a door seemed to close behind them, soundless but impossible to miss. “You won’t find the bed very comfortable, I’m afraid.”

Yuugi stared down at the bed right next to Atem’s own bed, and blinked in surprise. The gilded bed had a pronounced slant, with linen and cushions piled on top. The intricately painted headboard was on the lower end, with the higher end decorated with two gilded lioness’s heads. Atem’s bed was similar in shape, but was decorated with falcon heads. On both beds lay something that resembled oversized, gilded footrest with wide, curved top, padded with linen. “Um...”

Atem let out a short laugh under his breath. “The lower end is the footrest, not the headboard. And the headrest won’t be comfortable for you, so I had some cushions brought in so you can try both.”

“I’m never going to get used to this, am I?” Yuugi said plaintively, pressing a tentative knee on the bed. The mattress, if it was in fact a mattress, was hard even with the piles of linen on top, quite unlike the soft springiness of his own bed. Resigned to a sleepless night, Yuugi climbed on the bed, eyeing the headrest with trepidation. Atem was already lying in bed on his side, watching him with amusement. He appeared quite at home.

“How do I use this headrest thing?” Atem looked comfortable with it, and besides, this was likely the only time he would use this. He might as well get the experience now.

“Under your head, so it supports your neck. It’s more comfortable if you lie on your side.”

Experimentally, Yuugi placed his weight on the curved top, and was startled to note it was actually not as uncomfortable as it looked. And it put his spine perfectly straight when he was on his side. The canopy’s curtains had been drawn, but the cooling breeze wafted through the gaps, pleasant on his skin. The light from the torches filtered softly through the thin fabric, and Yuugi could easily make out Atem’s face, looking back at him. Atem’s face was serene, with an expression he’d never worn before, and Yuugi ached to see it: tonight could very well be the last time he saw Atem like this.

“Still uncomfortable?” Atem’s voice was almost a whisper, but carried. Yuugi shook his head, or tried to, and winced when the hard edge of the headrest dug into his neck. Atem’s shoulder shook, but Yuugi was too distracted by the way his eyelashes cast shadows over his cheeks to mind it. Had Atem’s lashes always been so long?

Almost as long as Anzu’s, Yuugi noted distractedly. Once, while Anzu was putting a band aid on his knee after an accident during gym, Yuugi had almost forgotten to breathe, captivated, as Anzu’s eyelashes rose and fell, delicate as a butterfly’s wings. That was the first time Yuugi recognized his attraction for what it was. Looking at Atem now, he wondered if Anzu, too, felt for Atem that same attraction he’d felt for her. He’d known about Anzu’s crush on Atem since not long after the Duelist Kingdom. It was hard to miss when Yuugi spent so much of his time watching Anzu. Had she ever stared at Atem like this, Yuugi wondered, mapping the curve of his Cupid’s bow, and the way those lips parted just bit as he breathed...?

Atem reached out, and Yuugi was startled to find he’d reached out first. The warmth of the touch was electric, and all thoughts of Anzu fled from his mind. There was only Atem, palm warm against his, lacing their fingers together.

“You’re not going to sleep?” Yuugi whispered back, voice quieter than the rustle of the curtains, but he knew Atem heard him.

“It’s the first time we’re sleeping like this. Side by side.” Atem’s tone was too serious to even feign sleepiness. “I wonder...”

“What?”

Atem looked a bit...uncomfortable? embarrassed? as he wondered aloud: “I wonder if this is supposed to be a reward or a punishment.”

Instantly, Yuugi understood. Though he remained adamant Yuugi should leave as soon as possible, the prospect of another farewell had weighed equally heavily on Atem’s mind. Yuugi did not fight the warmth that spread in his chest, or the smile on his face.

“A reward,” he answered firmly.

“Will I even remember this after...?”

Yuugi’s lips parted in surprise. Ah, he hadn’t thought about that. Yuugi had always taken for granted that his memories, the good and the bad, would remain with him, including his precious memories with Atem and their friends. However, Atem of all people knew the fragility of memories.

Impulsively, Yuugi sat up and leaned over to deposit a gentle kiss on Atem’s forehead. “You’d better. Because I will.”

The smile Atem gave him was more than gentle; it was tender, almost sweet. With the affection playing so openly on his face, Atem looked young, like a boy he was supposed to be than a king or a hero. And Yuugi knew he would remember this night all his life.

_Always._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Egyptians drank both beer and wine (though wine was imported at first, and thus not widely available), and wine was an important part of the offerings to the gods. The Egyptian concept of soul is taken mainly from [Wikipedia article on akh](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Akh). I first learned about the akh from a _National Geographic_ article, "Death on the Nile" (October 2002). Pylon is the gateway used for temples (including Karnak, which has several in a series), with two towers framing the entrance, thought to symbolize the two horizons (hills) where the sun rose and set. Most of my description of the palace is a hybrid of actual Karnak-Luxor complex and the manga/anime pictures. I recognized the palace gates pretty immediately as the entrance to Karnak, and the map of the royal city that appears on the Shadow RPG game board is an obvious match for Karnak-Luxor complex.
> 
> If it looks like I'm hedging a lot on the whole soul and reincarnation issue, that's because I AM. XD Takahashi Kazuki never explains it himself, so I'm hedging to make a (somewhat) coherent picture for this fic. Please bear with me.
> 
> I capitalized Ka and Ba because Takahashi Kazuki has his own version of what these two are -- but then it got awkward to NOT capitalize the other aspects of the soul, so I capitalized everything. Isis is my preferred spelling for Ishizu Ishtar, but I used Ishizu for this fic to differentiate her from the priestess Isis. And Karim looking like Rishid is my own thing, not canon. (Well, they do look kind of alike, but...) I have a pretty complete headcanon version of the past, so...yeah. Shaada-Shaadi thing I plain ignored, mainly because trying to puzzle out what happened to Shaadi was such a pain. Sorry for any Shaadi fans out there. :)


	4. I. RE:Try - Chapter Three

  
**RE:Play**   


  


[5/29/2009 - 12/31/2010]

**I. RE:Try**

_Chapter Three_

The next day, Yuugi slept through the drama of early morning hours, including the storm of protests Atem drew after announcing he and Yuugi would visit the Valley of the Kings alone. Mahaad, despite his obvious disapproval, sounded reluctantly impressed when he related what he assured Yuugi were the highlights of the morning. The only concession Atem made was taking Mahaad, Isis, and some palace guards – which made Yuugi laugh and Mahaad shake his head ruefully, recognizing the trickery for what it was. Isis looked wry as Mahaad explained none of the other guardians of the Millennium Items were present to argue, including Lord Akhenaden and Priest Seth, who had been busy in the temple of Set conducting a religious ceremony, and Lord Siamun, who had been called away shortly before Atem made his announcement. By the time Lord Siamun received the word and hurried back to the palace, Atem’s company was halfway across the city.  
It wasn’t until they were on the barge crossing the river that Atem finally revealed their true destination. Yuugi wasn’t sure if he was glad to be witnessing this one, and braced himself.

“If you will forgive me for questioning your decision, my king?” Mahaad’s voice was uncharacteristically edged, and he barely waited for Atem to nod before he continued. “Why are we going there?”

The way Mahaad said “there” made it clear if he had known beforehand, he would have never let them out of the palace. Isis watched Mahaad curiously, by which Yuugi guessed she had no idea why Mahaad was so against visiting the site of Kur-Elna, where Atem believed the Temple of the Underworld was located. If he was honest, Yuugi didn’t blame Mahaad. After he heard about the origin of the Millennium Items from Atem last night, Yuugi didn’t really _want_ to visit the haunted village, either.

“There’s something I must confirm. And I need your help.” Atem wasn’t backing down, to Mahaad’s chagrin. No surprise there – his eyes were determined as ever. After a long look at him, Mahaad let out a nearly inaudible sigh.  
“Is this why you wanted to leave Mana behind, pharaoh?” Mahaad asked wearily.

Atem nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Mahaad, but this is of utmost importance.”

If Yuugi ever had doubt Mahaad had a soft spot for Atem, it was laid to rest when Atem turned the earnest gaze at him and Mahaad didn’t last fifteen seconds before visibly softening. From his place next to Atem, Yuugi caught Isis’s eyes behind Mahaad’s back, and they traded a fondly amused look.

“If this is important to you, my king, then your wish is my command.” Mahaad still looked reluctant, but resigned. Yuugi offered him a sympathetic smile, which Mahaad answered with a dry look of his own, not fooled into believing Yuugi was an innocent party to all this.

“Thank you, Mahaad.” Atem’s eyes then slid to the priestess. “Isis.” Isis inclined her head, all trace of amusement wiped from her face. “Can you see anything in the future?” Atem demanded, intent and focused once more.

Isis closed her eyes, hands raised to hover near the Millennium Tauk. Between her palms, the Tauk gave a short burst of shimmering light, but did not react otherwise. After a moment, she opened her eyes and shook her head. “Nothing dangerous so far, my king. However...” Isis hesitated for a moment. “I did not foresee our true destination, either.” _Though I should have been able to_ hung in the air, unspoken.

Atem nodded. “Caution is our best guard, then.” A pause, and then: “Can you see anything about Yuugi at all? Or about me?”

Isis shook her head again, apologetic. “No, my king. And I have been looking since the first light of morning.”  
Yuugi looked away. He’d known, of course, that here in the past, the ordeal with Thief King and Zorc Necrophades would occur shortly. He and Atem might be here only for a little while, but...these people would live out the rest of their lives here. Some of them, like Mahaad, would not survive the coming conflict. Others, like Isis and Mana and Seth, would have the painful job of rebuilding their lives afterwards. And Atem...Atem would be sealed in the Millennium Puzzle for three millennia, without his memories or even his own name.

Or would history be changed here? Come to think of it, Atem already _knew_ what would happen. He could summon all three Egyptian Gods and use his name to unlock the power of Horakhty. If he stayed long enough for the battle against Zorc, wouldn’t he win this time? Granted, if the past was rewritten, it would mean Yuugi and Atem would never meet in the future, but wasn’t it better than letting Atem spend 3,000 years locked away in the shattered Puzzle?

“Look, aibou,” Atem murmured, right next to his ear, and Yuugi started. “Ta-sekhet-aat – the Great Field – is beyond the cliffs. The final resting place of kings.” The cliffs overlooking the Nile seemed to rise up higher as they approached, majestic and imposing. “If we have time, we can visit, though I doubt you’ll find it exciting.”

“Huh? Why?” Visiting the Valley of the Kings was one of the first things Yuugi wanted to do here, where they retained their original, unspoiled splendor.

“Because we can only see the outside. The tombs are all sealed.” Atem sounded amused. “Even I can’t order them opened. Once a tomb is sealed, it is meant to remain sealed.”

Oops. Right. He’d forgotten what the modern people were doing -- touring the tombs and looking at the unwrapped mummies and funerary artifacts -- was sacrilege in the minds of the ancients. In their time, these ancient people were beloved in life, and mourned by those left behind in death. It would horrify anyone, ancient or modern, to imagine their loved one’s grave defiled.

Remembering that Atem’s tomb, too, was once visited by treasure hunters was a sobering thought. Yuugi could sympathize with – inasmuch as he couldn’t condone – Shaadi’s relentless persecution of the royal grave robbers.

“I guess you’ll have to make it up to me and take me around the temples instead,” Yuugi said with more lightness than he felt, wondering if Atem also remembered the exhibition where they met Shaadi for the first time.

“If we have time,” Atem promised. The barge was soon moored ashore, and the guards quickly secured it so they could disembark. Despite the guards holding the plank steady, Yuugi stumbled right into Atem’s back, and flushed in embarrassment.

“Thanks,” Yuugi mumbled, feeling Atem’s arm securely wrapped around him, supporting him with ease.

Atem did not let go until Yuugi found his feet on solid ground again. “You’re welcome.”

Yuugi could feel eyes watching them. Even if Mahaad knew some of the truth, Isis and others did not. Their intimacy and familiarity with each other must look strange to everyone else. Yuugi gave a mental sigh, careful to keep his expression neutral, and quickened his pace to match Atem’s. There was a group of soldiers stationed on this side of the bank, waiting at attention with fresh horses, and Yuugi sent a startled sidelong glance at Atem, who didn’t so much as smirk.

“...This is the only way, right?” Yuugi asked, resigned. Their trip from the palace to the river had also been on horseback, and Yuugi most definitely had not enjoyed that. Clinging to a horse’s mane while trying to keep his balance atop the rounded barrel with no foothold to speak of? _So_ not his idea of fun. He knew from Memory World that Atem was a proficient rider, as were the priests. He was not looking forward to making an idiot out of himself in front of them.

“I’ll ride with you. It’s not a distance to travel on foot, and the path is too narrow for a chariot.” Resigned to his fate, Yuugi didn’t protest as he was helped to mount behind Atem. “Hold on to me. I won’t go fast.”

Yuugi mumbled skeptically into Atem’s back, but obeyed. After listening to a short report from the scouts, Atem signaled for his escort to form a line, himself at the head. Mahaad and Isis, both on horseback, were right behind him. Yuugi tensed when the horse walked a few steps, arms winding tight around Atem’s waist, then Atem sent a brisk kick to the horse’s flank, and they were off.

Despite himself, Yuugi squeaked and held on tighter. The horse wasn’t moving fast, but it could have been going supersonic for all he cared. Grimly, Yuugi clung to Atem, praying the ride would end soon.

“Aibou, I won’t let you fall. So look up.” Atem’s hand cupped Yuugi’s clenched hands, and Yuugi consciously relaxed his grip. When he peeked, they were already high above the river. Atem nudged the horse forward, slowing down a bit as the path became steeper and narrower. The narrow path widened as they descended to the valley. The valley was of warm sandy hue under the sun, but light didn’t reach the deep recesses in the dusky rocks, carved with sharp shadows. The hooves of the horses should have thundered down the valley, but the sound seemed to die out, absorbed to the ground below. It couldn’t have taken them that long to pass through, yet the silent valley seemed to stretch on forever. The sun remained frozen in the sky, as if time itself was grinding to a halt as they continued their journey.

By the time they stopped, Yuugi had begun to drift off, his sense of time long since gone. Atem’s horse started, and Yuugi, startled, squeezed his arms around Atem’s waist. “Kur-Elna,” Atem murmured in low voice, reaching down to pat the horse’s neck. But the horse was clearly spooked, and refused to move.

Ahead of them, within shouting distance from where they stood, remnants of destroyed buildings stuck out from the ground like broken bones, eerie and silent. The doorways and windows hung gaping on skeletal walls. Even the fierce sunlight seemed to lose strength here, this small village that was once a hideout for grave robbers and thieves. Even though it couldn’t be past noon, the village seemed to be surrounded by an eternal dusk. There was a strange hush around them, broken only by the nervous stamping of the hooves. When Atem again tried to urge his horse forward, the horse neighed and danced from side to side. Another attempt, then Atem gave up and dismounted.

“We will continue on foot. Half of the guards should remain here with the horses and guard the perimeter.”

While Mahaad regrouped the soldiers, Yuugi, grateful to be on solid ground again, didn’t even protest Atem helping him down.

“I’ve seen this before, but...” Atem’s voice was soft, meant only for Yuugi’s ears. He shook himself out of it, and the steel was back in his eyes the next moment. “The Temple of the Underworld is located in the heart of the town.”

Yuugi swallowed. At least Atem didn’t ask Yuugi to wait behind. Glancing behind, he saw Mahaad and Isis standing ready with a dozen guards. “I guess we should move on, then.”

As they moved deeper into the village, Yuugi felt a shiver rake his body. It wasn’t just a feeling, either. The temperature had dropped enough to raise goose bumps on his skin. A glance told him Atem was keenly aware of it: the pharaoh was alert, a hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The Millennium Puzzle glimmered even in the dim light, but the familiar sight was more sinister than reassuring. Was it a mist surrounding them, or something else?

“Isis, summon Spiria to look ahead.”

Behind him, Yuugi felt a rush of warmth, materializing in the form of a winged sprite that soared upward. The cold mist retreated around the Monster, enough to make her bright shape clearly visible even in the gloom that permeated throughout the village.

Atem watched, pensive. “As I thought...” he murmured, then: “Aibou, do you have your deck with you?”

Instantly, Yuugi knew what Atem was thinking, and it was just like the time the two of them shared one body, when words weren’t necessary to understand each other. “Which one do you need?”

“Anything with the aspect of Light,” Atem answered. “I don’t think I should summon here. It might attract...attention.”

Yuugi nodded and reached for the gentle warmth of his deck, and drew.

“A good choice,” Atem commented. There was a smile in his voice.

Yuugi held up the card. “Silent Magician!”

Light flooded inside him, and Yuugi let out an involuntary gasp. The spread of warmth made his skin tingle, as if the very air caressing him were charged. Then the pressure grew, building inside him, then exploded outward, leaving him in an impossible mixture of ecstasy and agony. When he was aware of himself again, Silent Magician stood before him, the staff at her side, ready to defend him. Looking at the summoned Monster, Yuugi felt his memories swirl. Back in his final duel against Atem, it had been Silent Magician that defeated Atem’s hidden card, the combination attack of Black Magician and Black Magician Girl. And after Atem’s special summon for the Sky-Dragon of Osiris was foiled, it was with the Silent Magician that Yuugi had ended the duel.

“Other Me, I—”

“We can’t go back, aibou. We can only go forward.” Atem looked at him then, lips quirking. His eyes held understanding: steady, proud, and perhaps a little sad. “Shall we?”

There was a dark passage before them, hidden gate thrown open to reveal a long staircase. The Temple of the Underworld. Yuugi took in a sharp breath. Torches were being lit, and the light from the Silent Magician illuminated the first few steps, their path laid out inexorably before them. This could be the last moment they had together before...before _something_ happened. Desperately, Yuugi wanted to say something. Although they’d both acted as if they were sure they would see tomorrow together, both of them had known they were on borrowed time.

“I’m glad,” Yuugi choked out, nearly inaudible, and Atem stilled. “That you and I met. That we—” Oh God, he couldn’t continue. His voice was breaking and he was sure Atem could hear the hitching of his breath. Then, Atem turned to look at him, his face wearing the same open, loving expression from the night before, and for a moment, Yuugi couldn’t breathe.

“Me, too.” Atem’s reply was so quiet, Yuugi almost missed it. “It is worth everything.”

It was all they had time for. The next moment, they started on their careful climb down the staircase. As they entered the underground chamber, Yuugi’s hand flew to his throat; if the air in the village had been cold, being inside the Temple was like breathing ice. Hatred was a tangible presence here, cloaked with so much darkness that even the light from Silent Magician and Spiria seemed faded. The torchlight flickered and dimmed, as if oppressed by the heavy air in the room.  
“Aibou,” Atem murmured, fingers lacing with Yuugi’s. Despite the calm tone, Yuugi could feel Atem’s hand was cold. Here they were, equally at the mercy of the vengeful spirits, yet Atem was still trying to be strong for him. Yuugi squeezed Atem’s hand, hoping the gesture of support would carry across.

A few steps more, the Stone of King’s Memories became visible. It was almost comforting to see its familiar shape, the circular base inscribed with hieroglyphics, but... “Other Me...does this room look...different to you?”

“Not from my memory of the past. But you’re right. When we came here for our final duel, this place didn’t look the same. Except for the Stone.” Atem lifted his torch high, illuminating the wall right behind the Stone. “And the Gate to the Underworld...”

Yuugi studied the images and hieroglyphs on the wall, and frowned. “Where’s the Eye?” Atem was looking fixedly at the wall, and didn’t answer. 3,000 years later in the future, the Gate to the Underworld had had the Eye in the center, surrounded by hieroglyphic texts detailing the ritual to open it. Behind the Stone, which lay with all seven grooves for the Items empty, the image and the text on the wall were completely different. Yuugi glanced around, wondering if they had come to the right place. The layout of the columns looked familiar, and so did the drawings on the walls, but Gate to the Underworld was nowhere to be seen.

“I should have realized it before.” Atem’s voice was low, darker even than the darkness in the Temple.

“The ritual described in the original inscription – wasn’t it essentially the same ritual used to free Zorc?” Yuugi whispered, and Atem gave a slight nod. The two rituals had the same central ingredient: the seven Millennium Items placed on the Stone of the King’s Memories. If they tried it now, they would probably release the evil god instead. “I assume we’re not going to try placing the Millennium Items on the Stone.”

“That would be ill advised, no,” Atem agreed. “But we’re right back to where we started. I should have remembered. In the past, this temple was damaged during the battle against Zorc. It must had been restored after.”

“Is this really the right place? I mean, maybe the temple was rebuilt somewhere else?”

Atem was still poring over the inscriptions and images on the wall behind the Stone, and answered him without looking. “I don’t think so. The layout of this temple is still exactly the same. I think it was rebuilt on the same site. And look,” Atem said, indicating the Stone, “the Stone of Memories is built into the platform. I don’t think it can be moved.”

“...Crap.” Yuugi bit his lip, realizing the extent of the problem. “So...it’s the same with Seth’s stone tablet. The Temple of the Underworld as we know it doesn’t exist yet.”

From all the time Yuugi had known him, Atem was never one to stay defeated for long. “There has to be another way,” Atem declared firmly. “Zorc was defeated. We did everything we were supposed to do. There has to be a way to send both of us back to where we belong.”

Yuugi’s eyes dropped from the stone panel above the platform, and stopped at the Stone. “Is there anything else we need to see here? Anything that could be useful?” He didn’t want to stay in this place any longer than necessary. The air around them was only growing colder by the minute.

“No. The image and inscription above the Stone speak of the judgment the dead must face in the Underworld. The rest of the inscriptions...Mahaad?”

“I recognize them from the Book of the Dead, my king,” Mahaad said quietly, and Yuugi almost jumped. He’d almost forgotten Mahaad and Isis were with them. Yuugi briefly wondered if Mahaad had heard any part of their earlier conversation. “I’ve checked most of it. There is nothing special about any of those inscriptions.”

“I find nothing out of the ordinary, either, pharaoh.” Isis had wandered off to examine other parts of the temple without their noticing, and was now walking back to them.

It was scary how quickly the two priests had picked up on what they were doing. Yuugi and Atem exchanged a look, and nodded. “Then, we can find nothing more here. We might as well go back.” Atem didn’t sound disappointed, but Yuugi knew better. The possibility that the two of them might be here for good hadn’t been one that either of them had seriously considered.

“Was there anything specific you were looking for, pharaoh?” Even through Mahaad’s preternatural calm, Yuugi could feel the magic of Black Magician held just barely in check, ready to spring to their defense. The darkness had deepened around them steadily, threatening to swallow them, and the soldiers stood huddled in a tight semicircle around the platform, clinging to the sanctuary of light created by the flickering torches. Even the staircase was now hidden in the pitch black. Parts of Spiria and Silent Magician had become obscured, and Yuugi could read discomfort on both Monsters’ faces.

“Something about a Gate to the Underworld,” Atem answered. Yuugi’s attention was split, drawn to the Silent Magician and Spiria’s growing distress. Isis’s face was becoming increasingly paler, too. “Isis, dismiss Spiria. She’s at her limit.”

Isis bowed, and Spiria disappeared with what might have been a relieved sigh. Left behind, Silent Magician’s form seemed even smaller. Yuugi drew another card. “Book of Secret Arts!”

Yuugi felt a distinct _pull_ somewhere within, infusing his insides with the same light as before. A green book shimmered into existence before the Silent Magician, who took it, and the Monster’s form became clearer and more distinct. This time, the drain left Yuugi swaying on his feet. Apparently, using magic was not without costs. And it was made worse by this place, which leeched away his energy even as he willed the spell into place.

“I don’t think this place likes us very much.” Yuugi could feel the icy chill pressing ever closer, stifling and merciless. There was an active, malicious will at work here, watchful of any opening it could exploit. The soldiers were shivering, and Isis looked like the only thing keeping her upright was the force of her will. Yuugi, feeling much the same, could empathize wholeheartedly. They wouldn’t last much longer, magic or no magic. “We should leave.”

Atem nodded. After another look at Yuugi’s fatigued face, he shook his head and held out a hand. “Holy Elf!” Misty form coalesced into a tall woman in green robe, long blonde hair shimmering softly in the torchlight. Her chant was barely above a murmur, but the darkness around them recoiled, letting the torches burn brighter. The Silent Magician glowed more brightly as well, illuminating the path to the staircase. “Let’s go. The longer we stay here, the more danger we face.”

He didn’t have to give the order twice. Their group moved toward the staircase as swiftly as they dared, guided by the gleaming figure of the Silent Magician and guarded by the Holy Elf in the rear. Once outside the temple, they did not pause until they rejoined the rest of their company waiting beyond the ruins of Kur-Elna. Then, they were once again off, riding back to the barge.

No one spoke until they were back on the barge. Isis, whose face had finally lost its pallor, was silent, watching the river. Mahaad looked subdued, but not enough to forbear a sharp look at Atem.

“This was one excursion I’d never have cared to see you undertake, pharaoh,” Mahaad said without preamble, and though Isis did not speak, her expression made it clear she felt the same. Atem did not answer or refute the statement, and after a moment, it was Mahaad who sighed in acquiescence. “Was it worthwhile?” Mahaad asked, his tone milder. Yuugi stole a look at Atem’s expressionless face, and sighed inwardly.

“We confirmed one thing, at least. We can figure out the rest later.” He kept his voice confident, hoping it would reassure both Atem and himself, and after a moment, Atem nodded. “I can’t help wondering if we didn’t misinterpret the words, though. The inscription said you couldn’t start your journey holding your sword, right? And we thought sword meant weapon. So cards for us.”

“Unless I drop the sword—”

“Which we thought meant you losing a duel, but—”

“If you would pardon the interruption...” Isis this time. Mahaad glanced from Isis to Atem, but held his peace. “When you say ‘drop the sword,’ do you mean in defeat, or in surrender?”

“You can’t be at rest unless you put down the sword,” Yuugi added, and yawned. He’d been deathly tired ever since using the last spell card. A thought came back to him, one he’d confided to Anzu on their way to the battle ceremony, that during all the time they had known each other, Atem had been constantly fighting. What did it mean, to be at peace? “You can’t be at peace unless you stop fighting. But stop because you’re defeated, or because you surrender?”

The afternoon sun was bright over the city while their barge crossed the river. In the distance, the walls of the palace gleamed, with the twin peaks of the pylon gate proudly lifted up in the center. The banners, held aloft even higher than the pylon, streamed their bright colors in the wind, their poles thrust up like spears at ready. Flanking the front gate like twin blades, the two obelisks, bleached pale gold in the sunlight, towered in the skyline.

“It can’t be that easy. That would mean I only needed to surrender the fight,” Atem pointed out.

“Or maybe, it’s not that we misinterpreted the inscription, Other Me. A ceremony of battle, Malik said. Your said yourself it would be your final trial.”

A brief spasm tightened Atem’s features, which Yuugi recognized as distress. “You can’t be thinking _this_ is actually the ceremony of battle?”

“Or maybe just the continuation.” Despite his best efforts, Yuugi couldn’t manage a reassuring smile. A piercing call came from the above, and a falcon descended like a ray of sunlight, diving towards an unseen prey, so close that Yuugi could make out the markings on its wings.

“Maybe...we simply haven’t finished the battle ceremony yet.”

  
**End of Part I**   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used the Greek version of the names to refer to the character, and the more Egyptian names to refer to the gods (e.g., Seth is Seto, Isis is Ishizu, but Set and Iset refer to the gods). Valley of the Kings is a modern moniker, of course, and the ancient name for the place was Ta-sekhet-aat ("the great field"). Ancient Egyptians did not actually ride on horseback (their horses being too small to carry fully armed adult males), and in fact chariots were the favored horse-powered transport. But since Yugioh canon has Atem and the priests riding on horses, I kept it. Yuugi's discomfort mainly stems from the fact modern saddle with stirrups didn't exist then – even Yugioh canon shows the riders without those. Book of the Dead (more accurately, "book of coming forth by day") is not actually a book, but a long scroll with the spells the deceased would need during the journey to the afterlife. Although enclosing the scroll with the dead at burial had become a widely popular custom by the 18th dynasty, the text wasn't actually standardized until much later. For the purpose of this story I pretended there was a standardized version during that time.
> 
> Credit for the original idea behind this story goes to [olesia](http://www.fanfiction.net/u/106194/olesia_love), who once told me about a fic idea, of Yuugi and Other Yuugi being transported to the ancient Egypt at the conclusion of the manga/anime timeline. I'd really liked the concept, but sadly olesia moved onto other fandoms shortly after, and never returned to her story, "[The Shadow of God](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4170618/1/The_Shadows_of_God)," much to my disappointment.
> 
> So at the end of May 2009, this story was born. Until the belated finish on December 31, 2010, I had a lot of fun writing this story, so I hope y'all will enjoy the ride~!


	5. II. RE:Turn - Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today (12/31/2012) is the two-year-anniversary of finishing **_RE:Play_**! It seemed a shame to miss it. I'll probably have to go back and edit a bit more later. A bit of hybridization of anime into the manga timeline, mainly because I liked that anime put a bit more of Seto/Seth backstory there, even if it did cause some really paradoxical moments.

**RE:Play**

[5/29/2009 - 12/31/2010]

**II. RE:Turn**  


_Chapter Four_

When they returned to the palace, Atem was immediately beset by Siamun and other priests, each armed with an angry protest. Yuugi had to fight down a feeling of disorientation at the sight of the wizened advisor, who looked and sounded exactly like his grandfather. Then, he noticed the priest who hadn’t joined the others protesting how could Atem endanger himself like that, going out with so few escorts, and berating Mahaad and Isis for letting it happen in the first place. Actually, if Yuugi hadn’t been distracted by Siamun, the lone priest would have been impossible to miss with the bright blue robe and headdress adorned with winged cobra, which made him look even taller than his already imposing height.

The Kaiba look-alike, Seth, looked preoccupied with some thought, and had barely spared a glance when Atem returned. As if feeling Yuugi’s gaze on him, Seth raised his eyes, and looked straight back at Yuugi.

Then, the blue eyes widened.

“Yuugi?”

His voice was barely above a whisper, but Yuugi heard as clearly as if it had been shouted. 

“Kaiba-kun?!”

Atem paused, head snapping to stare at “Seth” in shock. It was Seth, but not quite; for one, Seth was a stickler for decorum, at least in the public eyes, and would not have returned his gaze with such a direct, challenging stare. (In private or in the exclusive company of the priests was quite another matter.) He quirked an eyebrow at him in question, only to receive a narrow-eyed glare in return, and chuckled under his breath. Whatever power had brought both Yuugi and him back to the past seemed to have twisted yet another thread into their fate. Kaiba Seto wasn’t exactly on top of the list of people Atem wanted to be stranded in the past with, had he the choice. Still, their fates had crossed before. Perhaps Kaiba also had a part to play in all this.

“Seth, escort Yuugi to my room. I will join both of you shortly.” His voice wasn’t loud, but cut through the tumult of voices easily. For one moment, no one spoke, and Kaiba – it was unmistakably Kaiba under the priestly robe and headdress; that incredulous, you-are- _so_ -not-shitting-me glare couldn’t belong to anyone else but the CEO of Kaiba Corp – looked at him with an eloquently speaking look. Atem could feel Mahaad’s surprised glance, but did not break his gaze away from Kaiba. Then, Yuugi stepped next to Kaiba, and touched his elbow briefly, drawing both their attention.

“Shall we?” Yuugi asked softly, with a brief smile in Kaiba’s direction, and Kaiba acquiesced with one last look at Atem, letting Yuugi lead them away. Left behind, Atem watched the pair go, then turned, only to find six pairs of eyes pinned on him.

Belatedly, Atem wondered about the wisdom of not making his escape with the other two.

~*~*~*~

“Um, Kaiba-kun, _do_ you know which way it is?” Yuugi asked once they were out of the earshot of the palace attendants. Kaiba gave him an unimpressed look, which Yuugi answered with a bright smile, and Kaiba sighed.

“If I don’t try to think, yes.”

Yuugi blinked at him. “Should I ask?”

“...Now I know for sure I’m not dreaming. How did you get here, anyway?” For some reason, Kaiba looked rather tired. Both his hands were curled into loose fists, Millennium Rod left tucked in his belt.

“You remember, after my duel with Atem, the door opened and gave out a burst of light?” Kaiba made a dismissive noise, which Yuugi took as a yes. “When it faded, I found myself in this place. I think in the harems, actually. I’m pretty sure the lady I met was the queen.”

“Meritatem?” It was probably surprise, Yuugi decided, that colored Kaiba’s inflection now. “How did you get out of that one? Only the pharaoh is allowed to enter the harem.”

How did Kaiba know the queen’s name? “Um, I didn’t catch her name, actually. And Atem showed up right after.”

Kaiba did raise an eyebrow at that. “How convenient,” he drawled dryly. “And you’ve been here since—?”

“Yesterday afternoon,” Yuugi said promptly.

Kaiba’s mouth twitched once. “Interesting. About the same time, then.”

“And Atem, too,” Yuugi added, catching on. “So all three of us were brought here at the same time. Have you run into anyone else?”

“Was it Ishizu who was with you before?” Kaiba asked in lieu of an answer, and Yuugi shook his head. “And that wasn’t your grandfather, either.” Another shake. “Then, no.”

“Where have you been? If we’d know you were here, we’d have taken you with us.” It would have been reassuring, Yuugi admitted privately, to have Kaiba and the Blue-Eyes White Dragon to back them up while they were at the haunted village.

“What, touring the Valley of the Kings?” Kaiba’s tone made it clear had they asked, he’d have refused anyway.

Oh, right. Atem hadn’t revealed their true destination, and had forbidden their escorts from speaking about the trip. “Kur-Elna, actually. The Temple of the Underworld is there. Kind of.”

“I assume you were trying to reopen the gate to the Underworld.” It wasn’t a question. “It didn’t work, then.”

Yuugi winced. “We ran into a problem. Do you remember, when we visited the temple, the gate to the Underworld had the Eye and inscriptions explaining how to open it?”

“What about it?”

“Well, that gate doesn’t exist yet. Atem said the temple was destroyed when Zorc revived, and that it was probably rebuilt after Zorc was sealed.”

“...And I suppose the stone tablet doesn’t exist yet, either.”

“If you mean the one with Priest Seth and Atem on it, then no. Priest Seth didn’t make that until after Atem was sealed.” Yuugi was careful not to say “you,” in case Kaiba either didn’t know or didn’t care for the idea of Seth being his previous incarnation. Although he was seriously beginning to doubt the former. “Where _were_ you last night?” _And how much do you know about all this_ , Yuugi wanted to ask, but held his tongue. Kaiba never responded well to being pressed.

“With Priest Akhenaden. There was a special ceremony in the temple of Set last night.”

If no one had noticed anything was amiss during the ceremony, then there was more to this than just Kaiba being here. For one, Kaiba didn’t look like Kaiba, but Seth. “You _are_ still Kaiba-kun, right?” Yuugi asked softly. They had walked all the way to the pharaoh’s chamber. Yuugi flashed a brief smile at the attendants, who bowed to them and left the room. “Kaiba-kun, please. I don’t think we want to be stuck here, and we’ll need to work together if we want to go back.”

“I can access Seth’s memories.” Yuugi suspected a lot of thought had gone into that simple, clinical statement. “When I first found myself here, I thought I might be dreaming. It wasn’t until I saw you that I was sure this is real.”

Yuugi was impressed. For someone who found himself in the body of his past incarnation with sudden, full access to his past memories, Kaiba sounded remarkably composed. “Then, you’re in Seth’s body, and Atem is in his old body. And I’m here body _and_ soul?”

Kaiba gave a small, one-shouldered shrug, looking around the pharaoh’s chamber. “Maybe you have no past equivalent here.”

Yuugi smiled at Kaiba’s choice of word. “Just three of us, though?”

“You and Atem were the ones who went through the battle ceremony.” Kaiba skipped the part he hadn’t been a participant, yet was pulled in nonetheless. “Ishizu and your grandfather were right there, too, but they weren’t affected. Siamun is Siamun, and Isis is Isis.”

The way Kaiba pronounced Atem’s name was...familiar. Almost as if he’d called Atem by that name and not “Yuugi” all his life. Yuugi wondered if ‘having access to Seth’s memories’ was all that was going on with Kaiba. “So how does it work? Atem’s soul regained his memories _before_ this happened, so I can understand that. But you have both the body and the memories of Seth?”

Kaiba didn’t answer right away. “When I don’t think, the memories are easier to see,” he said in an inflectionless voice. “They come when I need them.”

“Other Me said something similar before.”

Kaiba pinned him with a narrow blue stare. “Did the Other Yuugi figure out what the hell happened?”

“Not...really. We didn’t find a lot in the Temple of the Underworld. We think the battle ceremony might not have been complete. Or we could have done it wrong. It’s a possibility.” Not one that Atem accepted, but worth mentioning anyway, Yuugi reasoned.

“Then why am _I_ mixed up in your screw-up?” The cool glint in Kaiba’s eyes made him swallow. “You’re the one who wanted to face him in the ceremonial battle.”

What had he expected? For Kaiba to act like his friend? Even if his involvement with Atem had changed him, Kaiba was never kind. Kaiba wasn’t Jounouchi, Anzu, or Honda. Or Ryou or Otogi. Why was Kaiba here? Did he have some part left to play? Granted, in some ways, Kaiba had had the greatest amount of influence in Atem’s life, both in the past and the future. But a small, selfish part of Yuugi had wanted this experience to remain something special just for himself and Atem.

“Maybe you should ask him to duel you, then. Maybe that will do it.” Yuugi hadn’t meant to sound so flat, and turned to pick up his duel disk, hiding his expression. Kaiba watched him in silence for a moment.

“I don’t have my deck. Or a duel disk, for that matter. I assume he doesn’t, either.” His voice wasn’t exactly softer, but it was less cutting. “It’s not like there was anything wrong with your duel. What exactly did you find out?”

Yuugi turned surprised eyes at him. Kaiba met his gaze evenly, but for once it was a neutral expression gracing his features. “Without the actual inscription there, not much. Malik said the inscription in the future mentioned a ceremony of battle, and that the king’s soul cannot start his journey holding a sword.”

“There was more.” Kaiba was frowning, but not at him. “Something about being unable to leave until he is at peace.”

“We thought it means he had to lose a duel. Since for us duelist, our cards are our ‘swords,’ right? And you can’t be at peace until you drop the sword. But Isis pointed out you could drop your sword either by defeat or surrender.”

“There’s a difference?”

To someone like Kaiba, there likely wasn’t, Yuugi mused with a smile. “Surrender is acceptance of defeat. Defeat doesn’t necessarily mean you accept losing.”

“He didn’t accept losing to you?” Kaiba’s tone made it clear what he thought about this take. “No, it has to be something else.”

“So I suggested maybe we didn’t actually complete the ritual.” Recalling Seth’s stone tablet, the earlier idea gained a new life, and Yuugi looked at him intently. “Maybe you _should_ try dueling the Other Me. Maybe it really is that the two of you have to perform the ritual. It’s worth a try.”

To Yuugi’s great surprise, Kaiba actually looked uncomfortable. “I’m not sure what the result would be. The duel in this time and place -- it’s different.”

“Other than the Monsters being real?” Yuugi kept his voice gentle. It wasn’t in Kaiba’s nature to admit even the possibility of a failure.

“Blue-Eyes doesn’t exist in this world yet.” If Yuugi hadn’t been listening carefully, he would have missed the touch of reluctance in Kaiba’s words. Yuugi nodded; after all, Black Magician as they knew didn’t exist yet, either. Given the discussion he’d had with Atem the night before, he could guess when the Blue-Eyes would make its appearance. And they definitely wouldn’t want to be around by then.

“And I guess waiting until it does would be a really bad idea.”

Kaiba didn’t quite smile. “Yes.”

“May I cut in?” a dry voice asked from the door, and two of them looked up to see Atem enter, looking a bit worse for wear.

“Siamun let you off that easy?” The razor edge was back in Kaiba’s voice, but it wasn’t from rancor, Yuugi thought. And the impatient glare Atem sent in his direction had a habitual feel to it. For a second, Yuugi felt another moment of déjà vu, like the two of them had this kind of exchange hundreds of times before.

“I was told Yuugi needs me urgently,” Atem replied archly. 

Yuugi blinked at him. “I do?”

“According to Isis. Naturally, I had to come and make sure you were safe.”

Kaiba snorted. “Isis is getting soft,” he said with a good measure of disdain.

Atem gave him a smile sharp enough to cut, then pointedly turned to face Yuugi. “Anyone else stranded here I should know about?”

“Not that we know of,” Yuugi answered. Not that Atem and Kaiba had gotten along before, exactly, but their dynamics here had an additional twist of...mutual sarcasm? Yuugi had gathered from his conversation with Atem that he and Seth had known each other for a long time. It was disorienting. Before, when Atem was simply the Other Yuugi, Mai had once or twice muttered something about the chemistry between the Other Yuugi and Kaiba that he didn’t think she’d meant for him to hear. At the time, the Other Yuugi had been outraged at the very insinuation, though Yuugi had secretly agreed with Mai’s assessment. And now, looking at them side by side, he had to admit: there really was a lot of chemistry between them, even outside a dueling arena.

“How long have you guys known each other, anyway?” Yuugi asked innocently.

“Seven years,” Atem answered promptly, then paused. “Aibou...” he said, beginnings of exasperation audible in his voice. Yuugi grinned at him, unrepentant. “...You do realize he’s still Kaiba under the skin, right?”

“Ha!” Kaiba whirled, his cape swishing behind him in a dramatic way his coat could never accomplish. With measured steps he stalked to the balcony, ignoring both of them. Behind him, Yuugi’s smile faltered. It _was_ Kaiba under the priest’s robe, headdress and the gold jewelry. But for a moment there, while he and Atem were bantering – almost like old friends but for the antagonism bordering on hostility – Yuugi thought he’d glimpsed at something more than the usual Kaiba.

“Did you tell him about—?” Atem gestured vaguely, and Yuugi suppressed a sigh. Back to business, then.

“Yeah. Also, Kaiba-kun and I compared notes, and I think the full inscription was more in the line of: ‘The king’s soul cannot start the journey holding a sword; he is not allowed to leave until he is at peace,’ or something to that effect.” There was no actual difference between the words Yuugi and Atem remembered from what Kaiba added, except in the way they were phrased. He knew Atem recalled as much, but like Yuugi, Atem had originally assumed that the second clause was simply the clarification for the first rather than a separate stipulation.

“You’re still thinking the second part is a separate requirement,” Atem surmised, eyes turning thoughtful. “It’s a possibility. If dropping the sword isn’t enough for me to be at peace...”

“Whichever it is, we didn’t fulfill the condition – that’s what I think. And somehow fulfilling the condition involves Kaiba-kun, too.”

Atem frowned at that. “You mean, my opponent had to be Kaiba? Is that what you’re thinking?” Yuugi did not answer. There were hints of agitation in Atem’s movement while he shrugged out of the cloak and unclasped the golden collar. “Kaiba and I had our duel already. Twice. I don’t think that’s the reason.”

“For once, I agree,” Kaiba said from the balcony with exasperation. “Why don’t _you_ try dueling him again? Maybe second time’s the charm.” His silky tone was laden with mocking amusement. “Unless you’re afraid the first time was a fluke, of course.”

“Kaiba,” Atem growled in a clear warning. Kaiba spun on his heel, eyes narrowed and glittering, daring him to continue. A discreet touch on Atem’s lower back drained some of the tension. However, Kaiba’s eyes only turned colder, looking down his perfect nose with familiar hauteur. Yuugi watched him with worry; it was increasingly obvious being stuck in Seth’s body bothered Kaiba a lot more than he let on.

“I don’t care to be involved in this failed exercise of yours. You’re the one who is overdue for moving on. Why don’t you hurry up and do that so I can stop wasting my time here?”

Atem’s eyes turned equally cold, matching the intensity of Kaiba’s glare. “It would serve you right if we’d never found you here and left you behind.” Atem took a step toward Kaiba, shrugging off Yuugi’s hand in the same movement. “Stop thinking about yourself for a change, and use your brain, Kaiba. You’re here for a reason. Unless we work together—”

Yuugi winced at the way the sneer snapped back on Kaiba’s face even before the words came. “Spare me. Don’t think for a moment we’re in this together. _I’m_ not the one who botched the battle ceremony, remember?”

“You dare—” Atem’s voice shook, and Yuugi swallowed, feeling the magic build inside Atem like a roiling sandstorm, gathering strength. Unsurprisingly, there was another, similar rise of magic on the balcony, a gathering of thunderclouds with Kaiba at its center. Challenge crackled in the air, and Yuugi bit his lip; as a rule, he stayed out of the confrontations between the Other Yuugi and Kaiba. But if they let loose their magic here, with two Millennium Items acting as their foci...

“Sealing Swords of Light!”

The words had desired effect. Their concentration broken, both Atem and Kaiba turned to Yuugi in surprise, bodies automatically braced for the unleashed magic of the spell card.

Which never came. Yuugi held up an empty hand. For a moment, no one spoke.

“Aibou, what—”

“What the hell do you think you’re pulling—”

“I think,” Yuugi interrupted loudly, then continued more softly. “I think you are both forgetting something. It doesn’t matter whose fault this is, or how or why we’re here. What matters is right now we’re trapped here, we don’t know how to get out, and there’s going to be a war here soon. And it’s pretty clear this isn’t the Memory World or a _game_.” He paused, partly for effect and partly for breath. “Every moment we stay here, we are changing the past. We don’t even know how much of the past we’ve already changed just by coming here. How much will continue to change.” Yuugi’s voice faltered, but did not break. “And, most importantly, we have no idea how this will affect our own time. If our world will even be the same when we manage to go back.”

He had both Atem and Kaiba’s undivided attention now. But even as he was speaking, his own words unearthed the fears he’d kept tightly suppressed, and Yuugi fought down a sliver of panic. After taking a deep breath, he added, in a quieter tone, “We _are_ in this together, whether we like or not. We can either work together and figure out a way, or keep fighting and lose both our past and future.”

Without another word, Yuugi walked out of the room, fighting to keep his pace slow until he was outside. Then, he broke into a run.

Atem couldn’t stay with him in the future because Atem had been dead for 3,000 years by then. He couldn’t stay here with the Atem in the past because there was a war coming that would take Atem from him soon. Even when they met again in the future, they would still be parted in the end. Why were they here? Why _now_?

“Ah—”

Yuugi barely had the time to look up before he crashed headfirst into someone, knocking both of them to the floor in a tangled heap.

“Ow...” a feminine voice moaned, and Yuugi flushed, realizing just what was cushioning his head like a warm, soft pillow. “Pharaoh?”

He was blushing hotly. Most of the palace had heard about him by now, but occasionally, people still mistook him for Atem, usually from the back. His hand, to his utter mortification, was still braced on a firm thigh. Oh God, he was going to die from embarrassment, if the lady didn’t kill him first when she realized her mistake. He snatched his hand away as if burned, flushing madly again when that made him do another nosedive into the generous cleavage. Hastily, he untangled himself. Maybe if he was fast, he could get away before the lady noticed he wasn’t Atem.

“I’m really sorry!” he exclaimed, helping the lady to her feet and studiously not meeting her eyes. From his angle, all he could see was a hand, decked in several rings and attached to a slim wrist adorned with beautiful beaded bracelet, gingerly rubbing the ample, er, bosom. “Excuse me,” he mumbled, and took off down the corridor.

Or tried to. The lady’s free hand had shot out to grasp his shoulder lightly before he could flee. “There is nothing to apologize for, my king. I’m perfectly fine, see?” Her voice was laughing and musical, and strangely familiar, now that Yuugi was listening to it.

Yuugi’s eyes rose without his volition, mouth slack with shock. “A-Anzu!”

Anzu’s eyes narrowed after she had a good look at him. “You’re not the king. Who are you?”

A _tanned_ Anzu. Scratch that, not even a trip to the town’s most expensive tanning salon (which Anzu would never waste her money on; Anzu was, all in all, a practical and sensible soul) could afford her that bewitching olive complexion. Yuugi gaped some more, finally noticing the way semi-transparent linen dress clung to her supple curves. A stunning collar of lapis lazuli beads adorned her throat and shoulder, offsetting her cropped brown hair and her wide blue eyes, lined with kohl and framed with curling eyelashes. As much as Yuugi privately admitted deep appreciation for Anzu in her short uniform skirt, even she had nothing on this Anzu. This Anzu was more than pretty. This Anzu was beautiful, was _sexy_ and knew it. And knew how to flaunt it. This Anzu was...looking increasingly pissed off.

“Um,” was the most intelligent response that came to Yuugi’s flustered mind. “Anzu” scowled at him, dainty mouth pressed in a haughty line.

“Who are you?” She demanded. “This is no place for children.”

The condescension in her tone cut. In all the years they’d been friends, Anzu had never spoken to him in that tone, like he was something below her notice and it irritated her to be forced to speak to him at all. Definitely not his Anzu. Just a look-alike, despite the uncanny similarity in appearance and voice. Yet...until now, all of the people who looked like someone from Yuugi’s time had been similar to their future counterparts not just in appearance but in personality. Isis was so like Ishizu, there was almost nothing to set them apart except maybe the clothing. Isis exuded the same calm, gentle, yet steadfast presence that Ishizu had. The short glimpses he’d had of Siamun had been enough to highlight how Siamun even had the same mannerism that his grandpa did. Why was this Anzu so different?

“Yuugi? Lady Anenut?”

Saved! It was Isis, with another woman in tow. Isis’s dark eyes slid over Anzu – Anenut, Yuugi corrected himself – to Yuugi, and her expression turned mildly surprised. “What are you doing here, Yuugi? I thought you were with the pharaoh.”

Anenut turned surprised eyes to Yuugi, and Yuugi fidgeted, uncomfortable under the gaze that was so like yet unlike his Anzu. Isis took pity on him, and nodded to her companion, who bowed to her and left. “Are you here for a visit, Lady Anenut?” Isis asked politely, and Anenut graced her with a smile and a nod.

“Yes. To the chapel of the Two Ladies.”

An inscrutable look clouded Isis’s eyes, but her expression didn’t change. “You are a distant relation to the royal family, Lady Anenut, but not a consecrated priestess. Even for a lady such as yourself, entering the temples is...”

The smile Anenut gave her this time was distinctly feline. If she let her lips curl away from her teeth, Yuugi was sure he would have seen razor-sharp incisors. “The pharaoh has never forbidden me, Priestess Isis. But please, grant me the courtesy of introducing us.”

Isis held her gaze for a moment longer, then nodded. “Yuugi, this is Lady Anenut. She is descended from the pharaoh’s great-grandfather, King Kamose. Lady Anenut, meet Lord Yuugi, an envoy from the gods, and an honored companion to the pharaoh.”

Anenut’s eyes, which widened briefly, lowered demurely as she bowed deeply. “Please pardon my earlier insolence, Lord Yuugi. I was surprised and embarrassed, and spoke rashly.”

“Ah, no, it’s okay...” Anenut was eyeing him like a vulture eyeing a potential prey, and Yuugi looked at Isis helplessly, whose gaze warmed at his pleading expression.

“Would you mind accompanying me, Lord Yuugi? I am in need of your help.”

“Of course.” Yuugi hoped his relief wasn’t too obvious. Come to think of it, Atem had used a similar trick to evade his councilors before. Briefly, Yuugi wondered if everyone working in the palace took mandatory lessons on how to evade unwelcome company. Isis nodded to Anenut with a polite smile.

Anenut looked distinctly annoyed, but curled her pretty, painted lips and dipped in a graceful curtsy. “Ah, then please excuse me. Perhaps I will see you later, Lord Yuugi? I really would like to continue our conversation.”

“Su-sure.”

Anenut gave him a brilliant smile, one that reminded Yuugi of Anzu in one of her fiercer moods, and sashayed away. Isis gave him a sympathetic look.

“Don’t mind her, Yuugi. Shall I walk you back to the pharaoh’s chamber, or would you like to keep me company for a while?”

“Can I stay with you? I mean...if you have time?”

Isis’s gaze turned concerned. “I was startled to find you alone. I didn’t think the pharaoh would ever leave you unaccompanied. Did something happen?”

Yuugi sighed. After the shock of running into Anzu (Anenut, he had to correct himself again) he’d almost forgotten about what made him leave Atem and Kaiba behind in the first place. “Not...really. I just wanted some time alone.”

Isis nodded. “I thought maybe the pharaoh and Seth quarreled again. They used to do that a lot when they were younger, and it can be...uncomfortable being around them when they argue.”

_No kidding_ , piped up a dry voice in Yuugi’s head. “I just...I haven’t had any time to myself since coming here.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Her question was friendly, offered out of thoughtfulness. Yuugi shook his head. He hadn’t really wanted to be alone, per se; sharing his body with another soul had made his notion of personal time somewhat different from most people, and besides, he rarely minded company. But being around Atem and Kaiba had been exhausting, especially when he started remembering all the things that could go wrong. “More than anything else, the pharaoh wants to protect you. That’s obvious, since he treasures you so. But it might be a good idea to remind him that you don’t need to be smothered. You haven’t even seen our city yet, have you?”

“No,” Yuugi admitted. He had been curious, but they’d had no time. He wasn’t sure if they ever would, but... This was Atem’s world, the place where he grew up and the people he loved. If they were here for a while, Yuugi wanted to see more before they left.

If they could leave at all. Yuugi pushed away the dark thought with effort.

“Well, I guess he would be kind of nervous to leave me on my own.”

Isis laughed softly at that. “I’ve seen you summon, Yuugi. I think you’ll be fine on your own.” The kindness in Isis’s gaze was startling, and reminded him of the way Mahaad sometimes looked at Atem, or Mana. “I don’t know what happened, but I can tell something bothers you. If you ever wish to, Yuugi, please don’t hesitate to talk to me.”

Eyes wide, Yuugi nodded. The warmth spreading in his chest banished the last of his dark thoughts, and Yuugi felt the knot of unease melt. “Thank you.”

Isis smiled at him, and there was a sisterly affection in her eyes that made Yuugi want to hug her. For her part, Isis merely smiled warmly. “Shall we go? I think there are a few places that Mahaad didn’t get around to showing you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Anzu's Egyptian name, I'd originally wanted to use ancient Egyptian word for apricot ("anzu"). Unfortunately I couldn't find it, so I went with annw.t, the fruit of annw tree (exactly what annw refers to is unclear), for the sound resemblance. Two Ladies refer to the vulture (Nekhbet) and the cobra (Wadjet). In ancient Egyptian culture, the temples were the earthly abode of the gods and had to be kept purified at all times. Only priests -- and the pharaoh, as the head of the state religion -- could enter, and only after rigorous purification rituals before and after. Some royal wives seemed to have kept religious functions as well.
> 
> ...Also, I begin to think I should just pony up the family tree I drew up for the story. Hmm.


	6. II. RE:Turn - Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory Egyptian bath moment alert! Proceed with caution, as historical accuracy may impair your visual. There are probably also a ton of mistakes which...I'll fix later. Eh.

  
**RE:Play** by _Shiraume_  


[Written: 5/29/2009 - 12/31/2010]

**II. RE:Turn**  


_Chapter Five_

“...and Lady Isis further sends word that she will be keeping Lord Yuugi company for the rest of the day.” The attendant, who finished the message, waited for the response with his head bowed. Atem and Kaiba exchanged a look, then turned their eyes back on their messenger, who looked on the verge of fidgeting.

“Anything else? I’m sure she said more,” Atem prompted.

The attendant hesitated. “Divine One, I only speak the words put into my mouth,” he started uncertainly. Suspicion confirmed, Atem’s expression turned wry.

“Speak. You will not be punished.”

“Lady Isis bids me to tell you it is unlike you, my king, to be so inattentive to the needs of your guest, especially one who is also a dear friend. She further bids me to tell you, Lord Seth, that it is unfitting for someone of your station and learning to show discourtesy to a guest, and that she expected better from both of you.”

Kaiba twitched. Atem’s wry expression turned sour. “...I see. You may go.”

The attendant bowed deeply, and left in a hurry.

“I suppose we deserved that one,” Atem said, mostly to himself.

“That woman...” Kaiba scowled. “Her habit of interfering unnecessarily hasn’t changed.”

“But you _remember_ that.” Atem’s eyes held him with an intensity that unnerved him, and Kaiba shrugged. “In case you still had doubts about this really being the past, Kaiba, there is no way I could have access to Seth’s memories.”

Kaiba did not answer. Yuugi was right, he acknowledged to himself with some reluctance. Even before, his outburst had been fueled by resentment at finding out his involvement with Atem – the past – still hadn’t ended. He’d never been one to live in the past. Yet ever since his life tangled with Yuugi, with his bright-eyed innocence and cursed Egyptian artifact and undead ancient pharaoh, it was as if every card in his hand was stolen and rearranged on a preset table in a rigged game.

This still was a rigged game, Kaiba decided with irritation coloring his thoughts. The only difference this time was that none of them even knew who the opponent was, let alone figure out the rules.

Atem – it was strangely easy to think of him that way now, with Seth’s memories so inextricably entwined in his mind – watched him with a familiar focus, and for a disorienting moment, Kaiba almost saw the image of a younger Atem superimposed over the present with the same expression. Like Seth was a puzzle Atem had to figure out or die trying. He wasn’t sure whose impulse it was, his or Seth’s, to meet Atem’s gaze with a look of his own, partly gauging and partly challenging. Atem’s gaze shifted to one that held defiance and a hint of irritation, exactly as Seth remembered, and Kaiba nearly choked on his tongue when another memory swirled past his thoughts.

“Kaiba?”

Not a good time to learn Seth used to find that look highly appealing and often provoked it on purpose, especially as the precocious nine-year-old brat Seth first met grew into a youth, with a lithe body and feline grace.

“If you have decided not to talk to me for the rest of our time here, it’s both childish and counterproductive—”

“Shut up,” Kaiba growled, pinching the bridge of his nose to stem the onset of another migraine. Whenever he tried to deliberately stop Seth’s memories from mingling with his own, the effort invariably gave him a headache that forced him to abandon all thinking process for a few minutes. “You’re not the one sorting through a jumble of memories trying to figure out which set belongs to you.”

To Kaiba’s surprise and no small relief, Atem did not speak again for a while. Finally feeling the pain behind his eyes retreat, Kaiba sighed and rubbed the spot between his eyes. While he was no stranger to periodic migraines (ah, the familiar companion of all CEOs), he never used to have them this often. He recalled the small bottle of pills kept in his briefcase along with his trusted laptop, and another bout of annoyance made him scowl. Yet another reason to resent his impromptu exile in this technology-deprived time and place.

“I’ll see if Mahaad can get you something for the headaches, shall I?” Atem asked, voice soft and pitched low. Like Atem needed to go easy on him. Like he, Kaiba Seto, needed the coddling. His scowl deepened, and Kaiba gave him a glare.

“Save it.”

Atem sighed, but did not pursue the point. “Like aibou said, our continued presence in the past means we run the risk of changing the sequence of events and affecting the future.”

“And how do you propose we get out of here?” Kaiba demanded with more belligerence than he felt, knowing he was acting unreasonable, but too tired to care. He had a life to live in the future, and a little brother to protect. Being stuck in this past life that should have ended 3,000 years ago was wearing on him. Hadn’t he – or Seth – already done his part in this debacle? “You said you don’t even know how we ended up here. Everything we could have used as a way back doesn’t even exist yet.”

“Do you have a better idea?” Atem wasn’t defensive anymore; Atem was angry. His eyes glittered, as hard as gemstones. “We don’t have a solution – yet. We _will_ find it. Until we do, stick to something productive for a change. Shutting up would be a good start.”

Kaiba wasn’t sure when he’d crossed the room to grab Atem. It was only when Atem’s eyes narrowed with a clear warning that he realized he’d forgotten what he’d wanted to retort in reply.

“Let go,” Atem ordered, voice deathly quiet. The fury was an incandescent blaze in his eyes, drawing Kaiba. Seth’s memory was a sudden chill down his spine, that they were within each other’s strike zone, both armed and capable of killing. How could he have forgotten? In every lifetime, being around Yuugi? Atem? was _never_ safe.

Tension coiled in Atem’s body like a cobra about to strike. And Kaiba tensed, ready for an attack. Just before the thread snapped, something shifted behind Atem’s gaze, and Atem relaxed, controlled and deliberate.

The two of them stared at each other. Slowly, Kaiba let go of him, and took a step back, and walked to the door. He made no hurried movement as he left the room.

Atem did not call him back.

~*~*~*~ 

After Kaiba left, Atem sat on his favorite chair, staring at a cartouche-shaped box bearing his name. His eyes took in the details of the gilded wood mechanically, without noticing any of the fine details of the carving that formed the characters of his name.

He wondered if Kaiba knew how close they came to killing each other. And it hadn’t even required magic or a Shadow Game.

Atem shivered.

The time he’d spent sealed with Zorc _had_ left its mark on him. After he awoke in Yuugi’s body, when he was known simply as the Other Yuugi, for a time he’d used Yuugi’s body and the power of the Millennium Puzzle to judge those who trespassed against Yuugi and his loved ones without remorse. The judgment meted out using the Shadow Games was merciless and exacting, surely, but with a game that revealed the true nature of the judged, the punishment equaled the crime. Or so he thought. Yuugi’s disagreement had exasperated him at first. Life wasn’t so simple or easy that everyone could be saved, and sometimes, if there were several things at stake, one had to choose what was more important, and sacrifice the rest.

And so in the Duelist Kingdom, the last time he almost let loose, he’d nearly killed Kaiba then, too. The irony wasn’t lost to him. Back then, when he had allowed his fear of failure to blind him to all other possibilities, Yuugi had overrode the Other Yuugi’s choice with his own for the first time, unyielding in his belief nothing could justify taking a life no matter how great their need. And it wasn’t until Mai nearly wiped the duel ring with him in her first five moves that he was forced to reexamine himself, and admit his own weakness. He hadn’t been the strong one for being willing to kill than risk failure; _Yuugi_ had been the strong one for seeing through his self-deception. Yuugi faced their defeat alone without blaming him, and by doing so taught him that without accepting the possibility of defeat, seeking victory was nothing but conceit. And finally, Yuugi had taught him that sometimes, his strength alone wasn’t enough, and he needed to rely on the strength of others around him to succeed.

He wasn’t the old Atem anymore, even though he’d claimed the name. In a lot of ways, regaining his memories had been more like a vague recognition from listening to a story he’d heard before rather than an instant certainty that these experiences were his and had formed the person he was. Mostly because they weren’t; the memories had shaped the person he used to be three millennia ago. The person he was now, wiser but hardened with experience, more _edged_ , could see the naivety of his choice then, believing the sacrifice of his soul would be enough to seal away Zorc for good. Seth certainly hadn’t been quite so trusting, and had meticulously prepared the Millennium Items and the clues to Atem’s lost name and memories for the _eventuality_ , not possibility, that Zorc would be free again one day. But at the time, Atem had lost both Mahaad and Siamun, who had looked after him since his childhood, as well as Karim and Shaada, and was just young enough to fear losing the remaining companions – Seth, Isis, and Mana – more than the consequences of his choice. And for Atem, who had been raised all of his sixteen years with the belief that it was his purpose and duty to protect his kingdom, it had been the only option, because the other choice was a drawn-out war with a near-hopeless outcome.

Could he, as he was now, make the same choice, knowing what he did? His memories from the time he’d shared with Yuugi were equally (if not more) important to him as his old memories. He’d said himself he wasn’t the Other Yuugi anymore, but he wasn’t just Atem anymore, either. If they were trapped here until all the events of the past played themselves out, would he be able to repeat the same choice he’d made 3,000 years ago?

On a less expected side, he had seriously underestimated how much being embodied would affect him. After being a spirit for such a long time, he’d forgotten the pleasure of a physical touch, the warmth of another person’s body. Here, he could reach out so easily to touch and be touched in return. After Yuugi succumbed to exhaustion during the pre-dawn hours this morning, Atem had stayed up to watch him, wondering at the softness of Yuugi’s hand entwined in his, and the ticklish sensation of Yuugi’s breath ghosting over his skin. Equally troubling was Yuugi’s newly developed tendency to stare when he thought Atem was unaware. At first, he’d dismissed those looks as curiosity or just novelty, since Yuugi had seen him in this appearance only briefly in the Memory World. But last night, it hadn’t been simple curiosity but attraction that shaded Yuugi’s eyes in a darker violet. And, like a fool, he’d allowed himself to grow intoxicated with it. Couldn’t resist flirting a little, just to see the attraction transmute to a spark of real desire. Mercifully, his senses came a-knocking at the last minute, reminding him their time together was ending soon, and such irresponsible frivolity on his part was inexcusable, not where Yuugi was involved.

Yet the temptation grew with each passing moment he spent in a physical body, truly living for the first time in 3,000 years. His own desire and need for physical touch had taken him by surprise, and he was having difficulty keeping those lidded. Before, when the two of them shared a body, Atem hadn’t been in control often enough to be affected by the normal teenage hormones. And physical needs had never been a part of his existence during his shared time with Yuugi. As for his feelings toward Yuugi, there was no simple way to describe the full spectrum of what he felt: admiration and affection, appreciation and a need to protect and care for Yuugi, trust, respect, and attraction to the kindness and courage that made his Yuugi’s soul shine with a rarest kind of brilliance – all of those were only shades of what he felt. Not exactly a romantic love, or simple friendship, or even familial love, yet possessing the qualities from all of them. During the time he was less than...complete, _Yuugi_ had been what made up the rest of him, what he absorbed to learn about the world around him and evaluate his own place in it. So far, any physical touch they exchanged was nothing but platonic, if somewhat overly familiar. It wasn’t that he wanted to go further, necessarily, just that he wanted more of it. And that desire was powerful. Overwhelming even.

Atem covered his eyes with a groan. Here he was, indulging himself thinking about his _feelings_ when their tomorrow – their very next moment – was uncertain. If Isis was escorting Yuugi, there was no immediate danger for him. And Kaiba was hardly helpless. Before he met up with either of them, he needed to figure out a few things, such as what the Thief King Bakura had been up to in the past week he’d been inactive. Since it looked as though they were stuck here for the time being, he should figure out Bakura’s next move. Once Bakura desecrated King Akhnamkanen’s tomb and visited the royal palace, it would be too late and the events would be spurred on to their inevitable conclusion.

Picking up first of the reports he’d had brought to his room earlier, Atem began reading.

~*~*~*~

“...The daily provisions are brought to here first, so they can be inspected, before they are stored in the storage cells you’ve seen before,” the storage master finished. Yuugi nodded, eyes wide as he absorbed the details like a dry sponge in water. Isis thanked the manager, who bowed and left.

“I know Mahaad didn’t show you these. And I thought it might interest you.” Yuugi beamed at her, and Isis felt an answer smile tug on her lips. Yuugi was easygoing and friendly, with healthy curiosity and a quick intelligence. It was nearing evening, and likely the pharaoh was anxious to have his beloved companion back. She was surprised he hadn’t sent for Yuugi already, but guessed her messenger this time had been a brave one and relayed her full message.

“Um, I think she’s here to see you,” Yuugi said, looking in the direction of the woman who had been with Isis when they met earlier.

“Please excuse me for a moment. And I will escort you back to the pharaoh’s chambers after I see to this.” Yuugi nodded, and Isis crossed the courtyard, making sure Yuugi was still in her full view while he walked around looking at the carts and the workers busily unloading fresh vegetables, fruits, and fish. Yuugi, left on his own for the first time in the day, looked around, curious to learn more. When he rounded another cart unloading fresh fruits, he heard familiar voices, and nearly jumped out of his skin.

“—to see you here. I thought you’d be too busy counting your newest wife’s money,” retorted Anzu –no, Anenut – acidly. “A wealthy landowner’s daughter, I hear. No doubt those fruits are from her father’s orchards. I see you’ve joined those eager fools begging the royal favor in exchange for gifts.” Yuugi carefully kept the cart between himself and the voice while he peeked; he’d heard another familiar voice that was talking to Anenut. His mouth opened soundlessly when he caught the sight of Anenut and...Otogi?

“And I thought being crude was beneath a lady’s noble dignity,” Otogi retorted right back. “Like your exploits in the palace aren’t equally notorious, Lady Anenut? You’re hardly in a position to criticize me for my personal life, when you try so hard to attract the attention of any man with position and power. You’ve gained quite a name for yourself lately. They say you are for anyone with the right coin.”

“How dare you.” Anenut whispered, and there was something raw under the flimsy veil of anger. Otogi seemed to catch on to it, and softened.

“My words were harsh.” His words were an apology, but Anenut did not deign to respond, and Otogi sighed. “Can’t we be friends again, An? I’m tired of fighting every time we meet.”

Anenut’s expression tightened with something other than the anger she’d been holding like a shield before her, but her reply dripped with venom. “You were the one who broke off our engagement, Ottah.”

Otogi – Ottah? – opened his mouth to reply, but a shuttered look covered his face before Anenut could see the pained expression for what it was, setting his jaw firmly. “I am but a poor merchant’s son. Surely your parents were glad to be rid of such a disadvantageous match.”

“Oh, I’m sure you had the best wishes for my happiness when you publicly humiliated me! You called it off a week before our wedding!” Anenut hissed, her face livid. However, Yuugi was well-versed with Anzu’s expression enough to pick out the hints of pain in Anenut’s expression. Ottah did not, and narrowed his eyes with a close-held fury of his own.

“Whatever happiness you seek, I’m sure being a lowly toymaker’s wife would never have been it, my lady, so if you will excuse me, I still have a delivery cart to unload before I return home. I bid you good day.”

Anenut stood trembling for a moment after Ottah pointedly turned his back and left. For a moment, she looked like Anzu sometimes did when she was fighting her tears and losing, but she bit down hard enough to make teeth mark on her luscious lower lip instead. When she lifted her head again, there was only cold look of determination in her eyes. Back straight and head held high, Anenut spun on her heel and headed back towards the inner court of the palace.

Yuugi watched her disappear with mixed feelings. Before, her likeness to Anzu appeared only skin-deep, with only an opportunistic, haughty schemer underneath. It was easy to dismiss her then. But what if there was more to her than that? No matter what she said in words, Anenut was hurt, perhaps even heartbroken, that Ottah broke up with her. And she hid her true feelings with the ease of someone who had her reasons _and_ a good share of the practice. So did Ottah, come to think of it. Whatever their stories, maybe their true natures weren’t so different from their counterparts in Yuugi’s time. After all, Isis and Siamun hadn’t been. Had he simply never bothered to find out, bitter with disappointment that Anenut wasn’t Anzu and never could be?

“I’m sorry it took so long, Yuugi. Ready to go back?” Isis said from a few paces behind him.

“Sure. And thanks for showing me around.” Isis had been kind to him from the beginning, like an older sister. Ishizu, though more reserved, shared the same warmth and dedication to those she cared about. Trusting her required no effort at all, especially when Isis returned his smile with affection.

“Not at all. If the pharaoh grants permission, I’ll see if we can show you around the city as well. Shall we?”

~*~*~*~

“You had a fight with him right after I left?” Yuugi asked incredulously, and Atem winced. “I can’t believe you two. We’ve established this really is the past, and every moment counts.”

“Sorry, aibou.” He left it at that, despite the nagging urge to point out it had been Kaiba’s fault. Mostly.

Yuugi’s frown melted to an understanding look. “We’re all stressed out by the situation. And I know how Kaiba-kun can be, so I can guess. But we really have to talk about this together later, okay?”

“Right.”

“So...what have you been up to?” Yuugi unsuccessfully fought a yawn. He’d barely slept the night before, and their trip to Kur-Elna had left him aching in places he’d never known could ache before. He wasn’t feeling up to bringing up Anenut yet, so he perched on a low chair, his chin resting on propped knees. “You were looking at scrolls before I came in.”

Atem held back a smile at the huge yawn that split Yuugi’s face. After all that happened yesterday and today, Yuugi must be feeling exhausted. To be honest, so was he. “I was reading the reports on Bakura’s recent movement. Assuming the bandit from a week ago was him. So far, he hasn’t made single appearance since that time, but he wasn’t seen near the royal tombs, either. I don’t know what he’s up to.”

Yuugi’s eyes were closed, his tone turning a bit fuzzy at the edges. “And we don’t want to be still around when he shows up at the palace?”

“Exactly. If we’re stuck here for a while, I thought we should figure out his movements, so we can anticipate when he might strike.”

“Yeah, good—” Another yawn interrupted him. “—Call.”

“Shall we make it an early night? We’ve had a really long day.”

“And how,” Yuugi murmured, a grin curving his mouth. He kept his eyes closed, and Atem doubted Yuugi’d stay awake for long. “Bed?”

“Bed ,” Atem agreed. There were other things he’d planned to tell Yuugi, but it seemed those would have to be saved for another day. At least, he was reasonably sure there would be another day here.

Yuugi let himself be towed along, and let Atem put him to bed with minimal fuss, too tired to protest. Even as Atem tucked a light linen sheet around him, Yuugi was falling asleep, murmuring him a sleepy goodnight. Atem chuckled and kissed his forehead, the same way Yuugi had done it to him the night before, and settled down for the night himself. After a moment’s thought, he reached out to take Yuugi’s hand in his own.

“Good night, aibou.”

~*~*~*~

“So, in short, this is actually your ceremonial bath for _religious_ purposes.”

“It’s the biggest bath in the palace. Unless you’d rather use the sacred lake,” Atem pointed out, all reason and practical purpose.

“A bath only _you’re_ supposed to use. For purification rituals,” Yuugi tried again, and did not get so much as a shrug in his direction. Yuugi was tempted to try poking Atem, but restrained himself. “And we’re breaking about a gazillion rules taking a non-ritual bath here? For fun?” he finished, his tone a bit more pointed.

“Right,” Atem agreed cheerfully, not looking the slightest bit concerned. “Didn’t you say you want a proper bath for once?”

He had. The regular method of washing here involved being doused with water by a servant, which was both embarrassing and not terribly pleasant for Yuugi, who was used to bathing in bathtubs. And the lure of water, perfumed with oil and fresh flowers, was tempting. Yuugi swallowed, feeling self-conscious about the way Atem was undressing right in front of him with a noticeable lack of concern, and for a moment he debated backing out of the plan altogether. The bath really wasn’t that big, though twice as big and deeper compared to the bathtub at home, and they’d end up sitting right next to each other once inside. Never mind they’d shared a body for two years. Sleeping in the same room was one thing, but taking a bath together—

“Are you going to join me, aibou?”

...And Atem was already in the bath, standing waist-deep in the water with a questioning tilt of his eyebrow. Yuugi flushed, and cursed his pale complexion that gave him away in an instant. In the past four days he’d spent here, Yuugi had developed a nice tan, but not enough to hide his fiercer blushes. It was just a bath, Yuugi reminded himself sternly. It was no big deal. Hell, he’d gone to public baths with Jounouchi and Honda before. It shouldn’t be any different.

Gathering his courage, Yuugi chucked his clothing as quickly as possible and dove in the water.

“It’s not warm,” Yuugi commented, a bit startled. Then again, a hot bath would be ill-suited for Egypt’s climate. Atem chuckled, probably guessing what was going through Yuugi’s mind.

“No, but I didn’t think you’d appreciate a hot bath in this weather.”

Yuugi gulped, and sank down until he was neck-deep in the water. Actually, the cool water felt kind of nice, and it smelled good. After groping under the water for a moment, he found the hard stone edge he was searching for, and waded closer to sit down next to Atem. Given the baths like these were ceremonial and weren’t actually meant for the bather to sit immersed in the water, Atem had shown his usual ingenuity and improvised with a low stone table for them to sit on.

Of course, it also put them in rather close quarters, but Yuugi was determined to not think about that.

“This is one thing I miss from the modern world.” Atem’s eyes were half-closed, leaning back on his hands with a sigh. “Running hot water in the bathtubs.”

“Not the comfy bed?” Yuugi couldn’t help teasing. Atem opened one eye and lifted a brow. “Because I do.”

Atem chuckled softly. “Maybe the bed, too. And the A/C in your room.”

The admission made Yuugi laugh as well; to be honest, he’d been missing the modern air conditioning himself. He wondered how Kaiba was getting on. “I wonder how Kaiba-kun is doing,” he mused out loud.

Atem made a noncommittal sound.

“I haven’t seen him in three days,” Yuugi continued. “Do you think he’s avoiding us?”

“Mm.” Not even a twitch of an eyelid.

“Are _you_ avoiding him?” Atem turned to him with a Look, which Yuugi answered with one of his own.

“I can’t help it if he’d rather not speak to either of us,” Atem said with simulated nonchalance. Yuugi smiled; the undertone of Atem’s annoyance was clear. So Atem had noticed, and it bothered him, too.

“We’re going to have to talk to him, you realize.” Atem made another noncommittal sound. “Other Me, we’re here together for a reason, right? Remember how we said we’d need to work together to go back?” This time Atem didn’t respond at all, and Yuugi, half frustrated and half amused by the rare show of petulance, reached for his hand underwater. “Other Me?”

Atem started under his hand, and Yuugi belatedly realized he’d brushed Atem’s ribs before reaching his elbow. It only took him a moment to relax again, so Yuugi tugged at the elbow again, wondering why Atem was being stubborn about this. Usually, Atem was pragmatic to a fault, and relentless when there was something to be done. This newfound childlike obduracy was actually endearing, in a way. But then again, Yuugi admitted to himself, Atem would have to make real effort to displease him. So he kept his hand gentle as he slid it up to Atem’s shoulder and nudged.

“Other Meeeeeeee,” Yuugi wheedled, and nearly forgot his original purpose when Atem leaned into his touch. When they’d shared a body, Atem had never been demonstrative. Being back in his old body seemed to have made him a few thousand times more tactile, and Atem’s newly gained tendency to touch him at odd moments or taking his hand both pleased and flustered him. Mostly pleased him, truth be told, but the novelty hadn’t worn off just yet. Fascinated by the feel of warm, smooth skin, Yuugi moved his hand up to knead Atem’s shoulder and neck, smiling when Atem relaxed even more under his touch. Yuugi shifted on his perch so he could reach with both hands, giving Atem an impromptu backrub, delighted when Atem made a pleased sound and leaned back.

Yuugi was loath to destroy the moment by talking, but his conscience was beginning to kick him in the rear. “We still have to talk to Kaiba-kun,” he whispered in Atem’s ear, and almost laughed when Atem twitched. “Or I’ll have no choice but to wander around the palace looking for him. But who knows when I’ll be ambushed by Anenut?”

That got a reaction. “I could have her banned from the palace,” Atem said in a low voice that didn’t sound much like a joke. Yuugi patted him on one shoulder, continuing his massage.

“No, no, I just wish she wouldn’t...you know.” 

“Circle around you like a starved crocodile?” Atem’s voice held a smile, and Yuugi bumped his head with Atem’s in a gentle admonition. “It’s not like I remember her that well, but I really didn’t notice her resemblance to Anzu until you pointed it out to me.”

“Well, if you were the old Atem, you wouldn’t have, since you wouldn’t have met Anzu until 3,000 years later. I think.”

“Ah yes, the time paradox.” A pause. “Still, she is so...different. Maybe the resemblance is just coincidence. Anzu was never that...” Atem searched for a word, and failed.

“Obsessed with social ladder climbing?” Yuugi supplied, and received an affirmative hum. “No, she wasn’t. But I think there’s more to Anenut than that. She and Anzu have lived completely different lives. And you said yourself experiences shape people.”

“Mm.” Atem’s eyes were closed again, body lax in Yuugi’s hand, and Yuugi flushed when he realized his hands were now more caressing than massaging, running over the warm, sleek skin of Atem’s back. Atem didn’t seem to notice, and in fact, he was leaning progressively closer to Yuugi, almost on the verge of falling back into Yuugi’s arms. It was...strange, to see Atem so relaxed around him.

“Other Me,” Yuugi started, half in protest when Atem finally fell back against him completely, leaning his head on Yuugi’s shoulder. Atem made a dismissive noise, burrowing deeper into Yuugi’s neck, and Yuugi nearly fell over himself, suddenly feeling too weak to support both their weight. Quickly, Yuugi shifted to a more secure position.

And realized the new position put Atem between his legs, practically cradled in his arms.

It took a few tries before Yuugi could find his voice again. “If you fall asleep, I’m going to leave you here.” He’d meant to sound stern, but it came out more breathless, and Yuugi’s color deepened.

Atem, for his part, only settled closer. “Stay,” he said softly, pulling Yuugi’s arms around him and folding his own over them.

His throat was so dry, it felt parched, and Yuugi swallowed several times. “Atem.”

“First time.” Yuugi made a questioning sound. “It’s the first time you’ve called me that since coming here,” Atem clarified.

Yuugi searched his memory, and was startled to find Atem was right. Ever since their unexpected reunion, he’d unconsciously lapsed back to calling Atem “Other Me.” Perhaps a carryover from the time he’d called Atem that, when Atem’s true name was unknown. Or perhaps from that time, when Yuugi realized Atem would soon leave him, and wished Atem would remain his Other Self just a little longer.

“Does it bother you?”

Atem stirred languidly in Yuugi’s arms. “No . I was the Other Yuugi for the two years I shared with you. Regaining my name doesn’t erase the time I’ve spent as the Other Yuugi.”

Or maybe, it was that as Atem, he was the pharaoh of Egypt. As the Other Yuugi, he was _Yuugi’s_ Other Self. The possessiveness of his own thoughts surprised him. Despite his crush on Anzu spanning over two years, he’d never harbored such proprietary feelings about her. Unconsciously, his arms tightened around Atem, eliciting a soft, questioning sound from him.

“Aibou...?”

Partner. Equal. A pair sharing the same burden. That had been what Atem called him since they went through the Duelist Kingdom together. “My Other Self,” Yuugi murmured back, lips nearly brushing against Atem’s temple as he spoke. Atem’s eyelashes fell to half-mast, making an indistinct sound in his throat that could have been an agreement, pleasure, or both. Like a needle to a magnet, Atem turned in Yuugi’s arms, craning his head back to face him properly. Slowly, Yuugi closed the last sliver of the distance between their lips.

Yuugi wasn’t sure who’d let out the quiet moan when their lips met. Then, Atem pulled back enough to pull Yuugi’s lower lip between his own, and this time, the short whimper was definitely from Yuugi. One of Yuugi’s hand rose to cup the side of Atem’s neck, and their lips brushed together again in the softest of touch, like the whisper of silk against skin. Atem’s hand sought out his with a desperation his lips did not share, and Yuugi reached back with his other hand, lacing their fingers in a tight grip. Atem’s free hand cupped Yuugi’s own, holding it pressed to his skin.

Their lips moved together lazily, in a light and lingering contact that nevertheless did not break. Atem’s breath was warm on his skin, and Yuugi shivered, hand tightening, then sliding down to Atem’s shoulder, tracing the collarbone down to press over his heart with exquisite slowness. Was his own heart racing as quickly as Atem’s? It was the first time he was able to listen to Atem’s heartbeat like this, separate from his own, pulsing under his palm. A moment later, Atem’s hand covered his, holding it in place. Atem’s lips curved for a moment, then parted to nibble on Yuugi’s lip with slightest hint of teeth, and Yuugi let out a noise distressingly similar to a kitten’s, but he was too distracted to care. Experimentally, Yuugi tried returning the favor, tugging at Atem’s upper lip playfully, and was rewarded by the sound of Atem’s breathing becoming more ragged.

Realizing Atem was on the verge of sliding off the table they were using for a makeshift bench, Yuugi stopped long enough to move his hand down to Atem’s waist, urging him back up until they were secure. Atem complied easily, but not before stealing another kiss. Their equal height put them at an awkward angle, however, and Atem solved the short dilemma by twisting to his side and arching his back, with a palm caressing Yuugi’s jaw to coax him back into another kiss. Yuugi obliged him, keeping Atem anchored with an arm around his waist. Atem’s other hand was resting on top of his thigh, warmth spreading from the contact, and if his mind weren’t otherwise occupied with the electric sensation of Atem’s hand on his skin, Yuugi would have been mortified. But to the way Atem simply settled against him, eyelashes fluttering open to reveal eyes more happy and open than he’d ever seen him, there was no other response Yuugi could give except to brush the side of Atem’s throat with a reverent joy.

Yuugi wasn’t so young or naïve that he failed to recognize the desire burning between them. But it was a sweet sort of ache; not overpowering, not urgent, but more tantalizing because they both felt it and delighted in it without needing to satisfy it and end the sweetness of longing. With a final, lingering kiss, Atem relaxed and leaned against Yuugi, trusting him to support them both. It made Yuugi’s heart skip a beat, understanding the trust implicit in that gesture, of surrendering his body to Yuugi’s care. Slowly, Yuugi reached for Atem’s hand and stroked it, making love to the callused but soft skin with touch alone. Atem stirred but did not move, letting Yuugi draw endless patterns on his palm with patience that surprised both of them. Slowly, Yuugi lifted the lax hand out of the water, and pressed it to his lips.

A soft sigh left Atem. Their hands curled together, cradling the warmth between their palms, a pleasant contrast to the cool water. Neither of them spoke.

Yuugi bowed his head until their foreheads touched, his eyes sliding closed. They remained like that for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve tried to keep everything as historically accurate as possible, with my admittedly limited means. The cartouche-shaped box with Atem’s name is inspired by [this one](http://www.touregypt.net/museum/tutl39.htm), which bears Tutankhamun’s name. As for the whole thing with ancient Egyptian baths – well, they didn’t actually take immersive baths until much later. The kind of luxurious baths we see in Cleopatra movies wouldn’t have been a regular feature during Middle Kingdom or even the New Kingdom. I’ve set Atem’s timeline to roughly coincide with Tutankhamun’s for several reasons (which I will explain later), and during that time only the priests would have taken immersive baths, and for purification rituals. The description of the bath is partly based on information found [here](http://books.google.com/books?id=XIns9M_9DcgC&lpg=PA28&ots=LykzNAuWec&dq=ancient%20egyptian%20bath%20for%20priests&pg=PA28#v=onepage&q=ancient%20egyptian%20bath%20for%20priests&f=false).


	7. II. RE:Turn - Chapter Six

  
**RE:Play** by _Shiraume_  


[Written: 5/29/2009 - 12/31/2010]

**II. RE:Turn**  


_Chapter Six_

_Ineb Hedj, Lower Egypt_

The great pyramids stretched up towards the sky, soaring in the distance, clearly visible over the white walls of Ineb Hedj.

Bakura cursed, wiping his brow. Fifteen years were a long time, and most of the officials and priests who served then had either retired or died. But some of the soldiers lived and remembered, and wine and gold easily loosened their tongue and refreshed their memory. The incident fifteen years ago could have been written off as a punitive measure against a village of grave robbers who made their living looting the royal tombs nearby. There were, however, no official records of any royal sanction against the residents of the Kur-Elna. As far as the official records were concerned, the villagers had, in the span of single week, simply vanished from the face of the earth. And the truth might have been buried forever in the sands of time, had there not been a survivor who witnessed both the massacre and the gruesome ritual performed in the secrecy of a hidden underground chamber. The only other legacy of that night was a secret temple for the deceased, built in the same chamber with a strange centerpiece: a large cylindrical stone with seven grooves of different shapes.

Bakura clenched his hands until he could feel blunt nails dig into the flesh of his palms. It had taken a lot of digging and countless false leads, but he’d learned there was a book of secrets passed down since the antiquities, known only to the kings and their most trusted priests. Actually, virtually every priest and scholar both in Egypt and abroad had heard the rumors of a legendary book of spells, said to contain the power to rule over all the lands. However, the book had been so well guarded that a scarce few could confirm the book even existed, let alone knew its content. Supposedly, when the kingdom’s capital moved, the book had also been moved to the new royal city. If he could just get his hands on this book, he might be able to gain a power to rival even that of the Seven Items. Unless he found a way to challenge the power of the famed Seven Items, his dream of revenge would remain just that: a dream. Still, it was one thing to bribe corrupt officials and priests in the royal city. The secrets of the temple were closely guarded, passed only to the innermost clique even among the priests. After nearly two years of fruitless search within the royal city, Bakura had concluded either the book was destroyed, or at least moved to another location.

Which had led him to the old capital, to the ancient seat of the kingdom. If any place held records that the royal city lacked, it would be Ineb Hedj. If nothing else availed him, he could try the old temples here. The temple complex of Ptah, though somewhat declined of late, like the other temples eclipsed by the rising fame of Amun-Ra, was still substantial, entwined in the heart of the city. Its archives reached far back into the kingdom’s history, dating back over a thousand years. Countless magic spells and books lay lost or forgotten in aged buildings, gathering dust. 

Still, all of those would have to wait, Bakura decided, until he got his hands on more cash first. He’d exhausted most of his loot on bribery. He needed to replenish his funds before he could move onto more ambitious projects, like pumping the priests here for information. With those thoughts in mind, he turned his attention to finding the most opulent inn the city had to offer.

Ah, there. A reputable inn with a sprawling garden in its inner courtyard. Sweet fragrance of fruits and flowers perfumed the air. There was even a large artificial pond full of blue lotus and papyrus. Likely the place served rich merchants traveling from the northeast, on their way down to the south. A good start. Careful to avoid the eyes of the servants, he scanned the guests loitering about the garden. As expected, some of them looked quite rich, decked in jewelry from head to toe. Among them, a woman caught his eye with her striking wheat-colored hair. Well, that and her ample...assets. Even without her dress, which was most definitely not Egyptian, one could never have mistaken her for a native; her features were too different, with harsher angles and fairer skin than one usually saw in Egyptian blood. Perhaps someone from the northeast, like the Land of Hatti. The heavy silver bracelets on her arms were of finest quality, set with scarlet carnelians. And the way she held herself, with the poise and confidence that could only have been bred since birth...a noble, Bakura decided with a contemptuous snort. It was uncommon but not unheard of, noblewomen traveling in foreign lands, usually in the company of their husbands, flirting with local youths while their henpecked men toiled away bargaining with merchants and finding priceless treasures to ferry home. And there was the local native, about twenty years of age, with unruly brown hair and brown eyes. The woman had her arm possessively linked to his, throwing her head back and laughing at something he said. He was handsome enough to look at, Bakura supposed, in an ill-groomed sort of way. But his garment was coarse enough to be mistaken for a servant’s, and his graceless gait was a visible contrast to his companion’s effortless glide.

With an amused snort, he dismissed the unlikely couple from his mind, and returned his attention to the rooms he’d been scouting as he passed. Despite what people thought, in a busy inn like this, it was far easier to steal during the broad daylight, when people left the rooms to tend to their business. He licked his lips, watching intently as a maid packed fine linen with expert hands, then laid out boxes made of precious white cedar, richly decorated with carvings. The maid carefully tucked them into the packed linen, except for the biggest box, which Bakura guessed must contain her mistress’s favorite jewels, and would be needed shortly. A voice called from outside the room, and the maid was on her feet, hurrying outside the door. _Too easy_ , thought Bakura as he snuck into the room the maid had just vacated, and soundlessly crossed the room to open the cedar box.

Bakura whistled quietly. He’d struck gold quite literally. Every one of the jewels inside was fit for a queen, with gold, silver, and precious stones filling the box to the brim. Quietly, he closed the box and tucked it under his robe, slithered out to the garden, and made his way to the front gate with a relaxed ease of someone who belonged there. As he passed the front gate, a shriek alerted him someone had noticed the missing jewelry box. There was a spatter of feet running across the hallway, which he ignored, walking into the busy street to be absorbed in the throng that milled about. There was an annoyed shout behind him, and he turned briefly to catch glimpse of a tangled heap with a familiar mop of unruly brown hair. The man was cursing loudly at the youth who’d just collided into him in his haste, and Bakura had to stifle a laugh. Of all the... It seemed he had unwittingly relieved the Hatti woman earlier of her favored possessions, prompting her brave young suitor to dash out in search of her lost jewels. Now that the ‘search party’ had taken care of itself, it was time to make his exit and examine his spoils.

Three streets over, he ducked into an alley, careful to avoid watching eyes, and opened the box again. Inside, he found a priceless necklace of lapis lazuli set in silver, magnificent carnelian rings, a pair of turquoise earrings, and thick strands of amethyst beads. More gold rings, bracelets, and pendants. One, a golden signet ring, caught his eye, and he held it out, examining the markings on its surface. The engraved symbols were peculiar, and definitely not Egyptian in origin. Perhaps Nesili, the language of Hatti. A woman’s head wearing a headdress, with a volute above...

“I’d like you to return those,” said a cool voice, and Bakura nearly jumped out of his skin. A young man with peculiar hairstyle, with his bang sticking out in the front, stood not five feet from him, one hand lightly resting on the hilt of a sword strapped to his side. Tracking him across several blocks and managing to sneak up on him was quite impressive, but Bakura had no desire to relinquish his claim on his new acquisition just yet.

“Oh? What makes you think they don’t belong to me?” he asked mockingly, mentally checking off escape routes. He didn’t particularly feel like leaving bodies behind, not when he’d just gotten here. His mission required stealth, and arousing suspicion of the authorities would hardly help.

“I noticed you lurking around the inn before,” the youth continued casually, fingers caressing the sword hilt like a lover. “I’d have left you alone, but you took something that belongs to my employer. I’m afraid I will have to insist you return them.”

“Your employer?” A mercenary for hire, then. And by the way he held himself, an experienced one. It was irritating to think he was not only seen and noticed, but so easily tracked. The young mercenary’s words, however, drew his attention. This man had no personal stake in retrieving the jewels. Besides, he obviously hadn’t cared a thief was lurking at the inn, and would have been willing to let him go had Bakura not robbed his own employer. “I think more pleasant agreement could be reached, don’t you think? It isn’t as if your lady would miss these.”

“She misses them now.” And just like that, the sword emerged from the sheath, soundless and sleek. The blade had a pale silver-colored edge, and Bakura stared. This was a foreign sword , an iron sword rarely seen in Egypt. His dagger was ready in his hand, drawn by spinal reflex; iron swords were often brittle, and wouldn’t stand long against his prized bronze dagger. “I’d ask you to not waste my time, but I doubt you’d listen.” Then his figure blurred, and Bakura found himself dodging a sword aimed at his neck with a hairbreadth to spare. Holding the jewelry box meant having only one arm free, and Bakura growled in frustration, ducking under yet another deadly thrust, rolling with the force to evade the next attack. One slash flowed into the next seamlessly, and Bakura barely had the time to breathe between landing on his feet and blocking the next thrust –

“I don’t care to kill unless I must,” the mercenary said with the same calm, pinning Bakura in place with the sharp blade nearly touching his throat. Bakura looked at his hand in utter shock; his favorite dagger had been knocked out of his hand with such force that it was embedded several inches deep in the wall a few feet from of him. There wasn’t a single scratch on the mercenary’s sword -- clearly not made of ordinary iron. It was the first time in a long time that someone had bested him in armed combat, and the surprise kept Bakura silent a moment longer before his brain kicked into an overdrive.

“Isn’t it simpler to kill me?” he asked carelessly, holding out the box away from his body, making no move to reach for the second dagger concealed inside his belt. The mercenary behind him gave one-shouldered shrug, then snatched the box out of his hand so quickly, Bakura had no time to register the sword at his throat had also disappeared.

Then the young mercenary was several feet away, out of his immediate reach. “You’re one of the best I’ve fought,” he said simply in the way of explanation. The sword was sheathed with the same grace with which it was drawn, and the mercenary gave a quick nod, and prepared to leave.

“Wait.” It might be useful to have an armed guard for hire, especially one with this level of skill. “What if I told you I’d like to hire you?”

The mercenary didn’t quite frown at him. “My contract with my current employer doesn’t end until tomorrow. I can’t oblige you at this time.”

“But you’ll be free for hiring after tomorrow?”

There was a briefest pause before the mercenary answered. “If the pay is good.”

“Anything you ask, as long as I get what I came here for,” Bakura promised. Having someone like this to guard his back would be quite handy while he looked around in the temples. Plus, mercenaries were well-traveled and often held wealth of information from various regions.

The mercenary studied him for a moment. “As long as you don’t try to pay me with my current employer’s money. I assume you’ll be able to find me tomorrow.”

“Oh, I’ll find you.”

“Very well, then.”

And he was gone. Left behind in the alley, Bakura dusted himself off, mildly annoyed. No matter. There were plenty of other fish in the city with less dangerous watchdogs guarding their treasures. Besides, a warrior of this mercenary’s caliber was rare. It was almost worth his first failure in many years as a thief.

Without another look behind him, Bakura headed back to the busy streets.

~*~*~*~

“How’d you get them back? I was sure they were gone for good.”

“Thieves bold enough to steal in daylight don’t run from the scene of crime,” he said simply, taking no interest in the way the Hatti woman passionately examined the contents of the box. She held up the signet ring -- the same one that had fascinated the thief long enough to be caught off guard -- with obvious relief, holding it close. He’d recognized the design, but had figured it wasn’t his business.

A shame for the Egyptian youth, though, who obviously had no clue. He was reasonably sure the boy was falling in love, with no idea he never had a chance with the beautiful foreigner.

“Djehuty, you shouldn’t have run after the thief like that,” she admonished the Egyptian, like an older sister to a brother, voice laced with equal parts affection and disapproval. “You could have gotten hurt.”

Djehuty scratched his head in embarrassment. “It’s not like I even caught a glimpse of the thief, let alone fight him. Good thing Hondo’s so good at what he does, eh?”

The Hatti woman made a dismissive noise. “He’d better be, with the money I’ve been paying him. I was beginning to wonder if it was necessary.”

“Maai...” Djehuty eyed her with something bordering on exasperation, and Hondo didn’t bother with even a shrug, showing himself out with only a short nod to both of them. Djehuty was a nice kid, but a bit clueless for all the hardship he’d endured. From what he’d heard, Djehuty had been on his own since he was twelve with a younger sister to care for. What had happened to the said sister, that he should spend the last six years wandering abroad, Djehuty never mentioned. He and Maai had met up with Djehuty on the way from Hatti to Egypt, and while they had instantly taken to each other, none of them had really spoken about themselves, preferring to keep their secrets. Maai was returning to Hatti tomorrow, with a large caravan traveling all the way through Hattusa and further east. He didn’t know how much Djehuty guessed about Maai, but didn’t think Djehuty would be willing to travel back to Hatti with her. Whatever painful past had driven him out of his homeland, Djehuty was nevertheless pining for his native country. Their arrival at Ineb Hedj seemed to breathe a new life in him.

No matter. Neither Djehuty’s nor Maai’s fate was his concern starting tomorrow. Hondo returned to his favorite spot in the garden, hidden under the shade of a palm tree. Next to the palms, a pomegranate tree and an apricot tree stood, delicious fruits ripening in the sun. Lying back with his head pillowed on his crossed arms, Hondo let himself drift, letting the call of the insects lull him to a light doze.

Hondo did not know how much time had passed when he was awoken by raised voices nearby. The familiarity of the voices kept him in a light sleep a bit longer before the volume rose too high to ignore. Hondo groaned under his breath, recognizing Djehuty and Maai’s voices. Those two had argued at least once a day since meeting each other. Why should their last day together be any different?

“—And he didn’t mean any harm! You’re overreacting. Why are you so sensitive about this?” Maai demanded, voice rising from sweet to shrill at the last, making Hondo wince. He supposed he should move and give the couple their privacy while they argued, but he was feeling pleasantly lazy and didn’t want to move. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t heard them fighting before, anyway.

“Dismissing me for your servant while he flirts with you is no big deal? I guess it’s hard for a spoiled rich girl to understand, isn’t it?” Djehuty demanded hotly, and Hondo sighed. Everything about Djehuty, from his name to his knowledge of both hieroglyphs and hieratic, hinted at a not so humble origin. And the boy didn’t usually care what anybody thought of him. Yet, Djehuty was strangely sensitive about other people constantly mistaking him for Maai’s servant, taking offense at every insinuation that Maai was above him, out of his reach. That he wasn’t good enough for her.

It probably didn’t help, Hondo mused with a snort, that Maai was an incurable flirt as well.

“Don’t give me that! And I corrected him!”

“You call that correcting him? Why didn’t you just invite him along for your trip back home? I’m sure he’d have been happy! Why can’t you act responsibly for once?!”

“Don’t you tell me what to do, Djehuty!”

Ah, there it was. Hondo sighed again, more loudly this time. Maai had the attitude of a woman whose whims had been constantly catered to, yet she was quite prickly about anyone taking a superior position around her. Under the haughtiness and temper, however, she had struck him as a woman who understood being spoiled and being respected were two different things, and was smart enough to know when she was being patronized. Now Djehuty, he either respected you, or didn’t respect you and told you so. Loudly. That had been why Maai was so drawn to him in the first place. With Djehuty, she never had a reason to doubt his sincerity.

A quick glance confirmed Djehuty and Maai glaring at each other, the hurt only thinly veiled by the show of anger. Maai was too proud to ask him to go with her, and Djehuty was too stubborn to ask her to stay. After a moment of silence, Djehuty turned brusquely, facing away from her.

“Well, you won’t have to put up with me anymore soon enough. That should make you happy.” Djehuty’s voice wasn’t bitter, simply weary, and Maai’s eyes wavered, looking, for the first time Hondo had known her, like a young girl.

“Yes, ecstatic,” she said, voice hollow. Djehuty flinched, but didn’t turn around. Maai’s eyes slid from Djehuty’s back to the ground, reddened but still dry.

“I hope you’ll be happy.” There was a thread of truthfulness in the neutral voice, and Maai’s eyes rose again to the back of Djehuty’s head.

“Djehuty, I—”

“I’m home, here. You’re not.” Djehuty sighed, but still didn’t turn around to look at her face. Maybe, Hondo thought with sympathy, he was afraid Maai’s expression might crumble his own mask of stoicism. Maai’s lovely eyes held an expression of distress Hondo would never have believed her capable of feeling. “We’ve both always known, Maai.”

“Yes.” Maai had never looked more beautiful than now, with anguish making her features sharper, yet her expression softer, fuller still. Her shoulders trembled, briefly, as if she longed to reach out and touch Djehuty. Djehuty’s hands were clenched tightly at his sides.

“I hope you’ll find whatever you’re looking for.”

Hondo was almost as surprised as Maai. He hadn’t thought Djehuty was perceptive enough to figure that out. A deep-seated restlessness had driven Maai from the comforts of her home, to search for something far away from the land of her ancestors. Djehuty, too, was seeking something, answering a call back to his homeland which held memories that chased him away in the first place. Their paths had crossed, but would not merge, because both of them were still looking for something. And even the brief haven of warmth and laughter Djehuty and Maai had created together wasn’t quite enough to keep them from their separate quests.

“You, too.” There was resignation in Maai’s voice now, mirroring Djehuty’s. “Where will you go?”

“South,” Djehuty answered. “Up the Nile, as far as I can go. You?”

“North,” Maai replied, with a short, humorless laugh. “Back to the snowy mountains and windy vales, as far as I can go.”

There were no more words exchanged, and the two of them walked together as if their argument had never been. In the evening light, the shadows of the couple cast over the water were both beautiful and heartbreaking. Hondo turned away, making his way back to the rooms, feeling even more like an intruder than he had when he was listening in on their argument earlier.

It was a good thing, Hondo thought, that his contract with Maai was ending tomorrow. Any longer, and he might end up becoming attached to the other two. He’d learned his lesson about the dangers of attachment years ago, and had no desire to repeat it.

The next day, the three parted as if the idea to do otherwise had never once crossed their minds.

~*~*~*~

“So, _do_ you know what you’re looking for?”

“No,” Bakura snapped irritably. “But I’ll know when I see it.” He hoped. He’d known the ancient temple complex of Ptah held a sizable collection of papyri , but this... The entire room was overflowing with piles upon piles of scrolls. The priest who let them in after a surreptitious press of gold pieces in his hand had assured them this was the largest and oldest archive containing the temple’s texts on magic, but could not venture a guess how many there were, let alone what was in them.

And this wasn’t the only archive in the temple.

The late afternoon sun cast only dim light through the small windows high up on the walls. Hondo adjusted his grip on the newly lit torch. Even if the bribed priest seemed unconcerned about letting outsiders into the temple archives, he doubted the priest’s colleagues would appreciate them setting the whole collection on fire. Egypt’s naturally dry climate kept the ancient scrolls in good condition, but they were old, brittle, and would burn up like dry kindling in a heartbeat. He wouldn’t even have brought the torch in here if he could help it, but sunset was rapidly approaching and it didn’t look like they’d find whatever they were looking for that quickly.

“It can’t be here.”

Hondo, rather accustomed to Bakura talking to himself, didn’t bother to respond.

“This book’s supposed to be a big secret. It can’t be kept in plain sight like this.”

“Would anyone actually care to dig through all these?” Hondo asked with a careless jerk of his head in the direction of the scrolls. Bakura’s narrow-eyed glare didn’t faze him, but he didn’t particularly care to stand here all night relighting the torch while Bakura dug through the veritable mountain of papyri. “Well, in most of the places I’ve traveled to, temples and palaces tend to have secret rooms, but with the doors hidden in plain sight.” Bakura looked like he was about to retort back something unpleasant, so Hondo continued quickly. “Like there.” Hondo pointed to a spot in center of the room covered with a straw mat, which was miraculously free of the scrolls. “Why would anyone put a new straw mat in a room no one ever comes into?”

Bakura froze.

Hondo waited patiently, though the slow smile that spread on Bakura’s scarred face would have sent any sane man running. Then, the thief all but pounced on the mat, snatching it away and sending it hurling to the piles of scrolls nearby. Underneath, there was nothing but a bare patch of floor, and for a moment Hondo wondered if Bakura was going to chew him out for that brilliant suggestion. The thief, however, was examining the floor with a passionate intensity.

“You’re right,” Bakura said at last. Before Hondo could questions his sanity (again), Bakura carefully swept away the dirt and sand covering the floor until grains of wooden panel appeared. “A hidden door,” Bakura breathed, tracing the four sides of a trapdoor, and a metal handle. With a creek, the door lifted from the floor to reveal a dark gaping hole. “Give the torch here.”

Intrigued despite himself, Hondo drew closer and lowered the torch until it threw a dim light in the dark interior. “A staircase,” Hondo observed, peering. “I don’t suppose you’d consider coming back tomorrow when it’s lighter out?”

Bakura snorted and took the torch from him. “You can stand guard here for all I care. I’m going in.”

Hondo held out a hand. “Just asking. Lead on, boss.”

With another snort and a derogatory remark under his breath, Bakura descended the steps, holding out the torch to light their way. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Hondo realized he could make out the vague shape of a small room, with a stone pedestal near the far wall. A jar stood next to it with half a dozen scrolls sticking out of its mouth.

“More scrolls,” Hondo remarked with resignation. Bakura, however, did not make a sound.

“The same as the Seven Items,” Bakura finally murmured. “Ammit’s jaws. This is it.”

Hondo, who finally noticed what was on the pedestal, blinked in surprise. A casket with a seriously creepy design of an eye? _That_ was what Bakura had been looking for?

“Who’s there?” demanded a sharp voice. Hondo swore softly. This voice didn’t belong to the priest they’d bribed. “Show yourself!”

“An excellent suggestion,” Bakura drawled, bringing the torch closer to him with a flourish. The movement not so incidentally illuminated Bakura holding the strange casket he’d taken off the pedestal. There was a sharp intake of breath up on the staircase, and another torch entered their view, held by an aged priest. The deeply lined face had paled to an alarming shade as soon as he saw what Bakura was holding. “Wisely followed, too. Now that you’re here, you can help me. Why don’t you start by telling me what _this_ ,” Bakura emphasized his point by lifting up the object cradled in his arm, “is?”

“The Millennium Grimoire.” That odd-looking thing was a book? Hondo frowned at the priest’s voice, which was too calm, too collected. People generally did not get over their shock that fast unless they had something up their sleeve. “You won’t understand anything even if you read it.”

Bakura’s smile was all teeth. “Oh, I’ll take my chances. Ever been to Kur-Elna?” His question was deceptively casual. Watching the remaining color drain away from the priest’s face in an instant, Bakura bared his teeth again, this time in a snarl. “Some fifteen years ago, maybe?”

The priest’s face was a deathly pale mask. Hearing muttered words echo faintly in the dark chamber, Hondo tensed. Often, the priests were trained in the magic passed down to each temple—

The ground under their feet split open with a thunderous crack, and the entire world seemed to shake, forcing both of them to the ground. Then, the priest called out, clearly audible even through the noise: “I summon Bazoo, the Soul-Eater!”

Hondo took in a sharp breath. Not ten feet from them, there was suddenly a creature he’d only seen once, brought by merchants from further southwest, beyond the deserts. Except the mandrills he’d seen weren’t quite so large, nor had violet fur with golden tufts and horns framing the face. The red eyes glowed eerily, the large teeth bared in a frightening grin.

“Bazoo, attack!”

The mandrill roared, leaping and bearing down on them. The shaking of the ground had lessened, but was still keeping them crouched in a defensive position, unable to attack. Hondo didn’t waste his breath cursing, only half-listening to Bakura let out a creative expletive, and brought his sword up just in time to deflect a savage swipe in the thief’s direction. The mandrill’s howl of rage and pain made Hondo wince, but the ground under them had finally settled. Bakura’s sharp bronze dagger was out as well, glinting with the light from the torch in his other hand. The mandrill attacked again, heedless of the fire that an ordinary animal would have avoided, and Bakura let out a surprised grunt, falling under the heavy body, the torch knocked out of his hand. Hondo did not pause, slashing at the ape’s back with just enough force to distract it; he didn’t want to risk a thrust while Bakura was still under it. The pained whimper turned into a roar of agony, and Hondo scrambled out of the way as Bakura rolled them over, the bronze dagger deep in the mandrill’s gut, slicing upward.

With another cry, the mandrill suddenly seemed to dissolve into shimmering light, then disappeared. Hondo and Bakura stared at the empty space that was occupied by the monster only moments ago, too stunned to pick themselves up from the ground. Bakura met his eyes, grim expression now replacing the shock.

“Where’s that priest?”

“I think he’s more of a mage than a priest,” Hondo replied, helping Bakura to his feet. Bakura replaced the dagger in his belt, and picked up the Millennium Grimoire. “Should we take the scrolls?”

Bakura was about to reply when the room suddenly became a lot brighter.

“Shit!” Hondo dove to one side to avoid a ball of fire flying in his direction, seeing Bakura do the same. Rolling to his feet smoothly with the momentum, he looked up to see the trapdoor slam shut. “He’s going to try and block the door!”

Bakura dodged the last ball of fire, cursing as the flame caught on his sleeve hissed and went out after singing the cloth. “The scrolls—”

Hondo would have rolled his eyes if he could; Bakura already had his hands full carrying both the Millennium Grimoire and the torch. “Go up and stop him before our exit’s blocked. I’ll get them.” The dying flames on the floor provided enough light for him to gather up the scrolls and bundle them together with a strip of cloth, and Hondo hurried up the staircase after Bakura, who kicked the door open and rushed out.

Just as he reached the trapdoor, tendrils of fire shot through the entire archive room, and the split second of delay was what saved Hondo from the same fate as Bakura, who was engulfed in the flame, staggered, and fell to his knees. The flame disappeared only seconds after Bakura was down, but the torch he’d dropped was rolling away, still lit. Honda did curse aloud this time; the mage stood at the doorway, looking at them with something akin to regret. There was no anger on his face, only an earnest, deadly intent. Whatever this Millennium Grimoire was, this man was willing to kill them both to keep it out of their hands. Was planning to do exactly that.

The mage’s mouth opened, but no sound escaped him. Soundlessly, he crumpled to the floor, Bakura’s dagger buried hilt-deep in his heart. Hondo breathed a sigh of relief, dropping his outstretched hand to his side. He did not spare the dead mage single glance, turning his attention back to Bakura, who was still on his knees, head bowed and shaking.

“You alive there, Bakura?” he asked softly, reaching out to pull him to his feet. Bakura swayed on his feet, but regained his balance, face ashen and pinched. There was no burn on his skin, although he was looking rather shaken. “Hurt anywhere?”

“Drained,” Bakura croaked, then cleared his throat. “That fire wasn’t normal.”

Hondo held back his reflexive response, eyes arrested by another problem quickly growing behind them. “...No, but _that_ one is.”

“Fuck,” Bakura said, finally noticing the torch he’d dropped had rolled into the nearest pile of papyrus, which was now fueling a quickly spreading fire.

“Come on.” Bakura didn’t have to be told twice, pausing only to pluck his dagger from the mage’s dead body. He flicked the blood off the blade with a sharp shake, wiped it, then replaced it to his belt.

“Thanks,” Bakura said grudgingly without looking back at him, and Hondo couldn’t help a grin.

“You’re the boss,” Hondo said, adjusting his grip on the bundle of scrolls rescued from the underground chamber. Just as they were entering the hallway, a deep rumble stopped him dead on his track, and Hondo closed his eyes for a brief second. “Not again.”

The quake underground earlier had weakened the floor, causing it to collapse. Hondo pushed Bakura hard enough to make him stumble, out of the way of a crumbling column. The falling column knocked out several of its neighbors, and the ceiling above, deprived of its support, crashed.

Right on top of them.

The exit was only a few feet away, but large slabs of cracked limestone ceiling blocks were plummeting downward. “Bakura!” Hondo’s weight sent them both to the ground rolling, and Hondo closed his eyes, hoping to hell they were in the clear.

Few minutes later, as the dust settled, Hondo cautiously opened his eyes, slowly uncurling from the ground. A quick look around told him they’d avoided the massive weight of a fallen architrave by scarce two feet. Several great columns lay in scattered, cylindrical blocks around them. The remnants of the columns had saved them from a worse fate by keeping the ceiling blocks off them. A short distance from him, Bakura lay unmoving.

With a silent groan, Hondo crawled over to Bakura to check him. By the even breathing, he could tell Bakura was merely unconscious, not dead, but a still-bleeding wound on his head told Hondo what knocked him out in the first place. Great, then the thief was well and truly out, possibly for the next few hours. Still clutched tightly in his arm was the Millennium Grimoire.

Sighing, Hondo gathered their hard-won prizes, both the scrolls and the book, and hoisted Bakura across his shoulder. He could hear shouts in the distance already, and if it hadn’t been dark outside, they’d have been spotted by now. His muscles protested under the solid weight of Bakura, made even more unwieldy with the book and scrolls he was holding in addition, but they had to make their exit _now_. Slowly but steadily, Hondo moved away from the wreckage, towards the courtyard outside and the sturdy wall separating the temple from a less busy section of the streets.

“You are _so_ going to owe me a bonus pay after this,” he told the unconscious Bakura as he labored both of them up the wall. Then soundlessly, they dropped to the quiet street below, and were absorbed by the night.

**END OF PART II**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there’s a lot this time. Feel free to skip.
> 
> Ineb Hedj -- “white walls” -- is the Egyptian name for Memphis. Memphis is a Greek name, and a confusion from Men-Nefer, the Egyptian name for the pyramid of 6th dynasty king Pepi I, called Menfe in Coptic. Although in Atem’s time Waset (Thebes) was the capital, Memphis nevertheless remained an important administrative center of the empire throughout the history of Egypt.
> 
> In the manga canon Akunadin originally names the Millennium Items “Seven Hidden Treasure,” which I’ve simplified to Seven Items for clarity’s sake. Canon explains the name “Millennium Items” reflects Akunamkanon’s hope for peace, but likely it is also allusion to the original title of the book, “Sennen Majutsusho” (Millennium Book of Magic).
> 
> Egypt didn’t jump into Iron Age unlike Anatolia and other places in Africa. Iron swords, in their earliest incarnation, would have broken against fine bronze ones. Still, quench-hardened carbon steel (dark with silvery edges) had its first tries as early as 1400 BC, so I decided to give Hondo, who is probably the best traveled out of the lot, one of these new carbon steel blades. Bakura’s dagger is fine bronze (and since this was late Bronze Age, I surmised its metallurgy was probably at its finest) but shorter blades would have been harder to break, hence the outcome in the story.
> 
> Egyptians did not use bound books. The most complete example of the Book of the Dead, the Papyrus of Ani, is actually a really, really long scroll (and it doesn’t even date back to the 18th dynasty!). Nonetheless, the canon portrays the Millennium Grimoire as a bound volume, hence my take on it.
> 
> Stone of choice in Middle Kingdom to early 18th dynasty was limestone, although it was replaced by the more flood-resistant sandstone by the time of Thutmose III. I assumed the temple of Ptah in this story would have been built earlier and used limestone like the pyramids, hence the whole place crumbling so quickly.
> 
> Ammit or Ammut, also known as Devourer, as a demon and a personification of justice, ate the condemned forever. Her name literally means Bone Eater.
> 
> The progression of magic used for the final scene are: Earthquake, Spell Card, “Change all face-up monsters to Defense Position.” Bazoo the Soul Eater, Lv4, Earth, ATK 1600, DEF 900, Beast/Effect, increases ATK 300 per every card removed from Graveyard, with a maximum of three. Hinotama, Spell Card, “Inflicts 500 points of Direct Damage to your opponent’s Life Points.” Ookazi, Spell Card, “Inflict 800 points of Direct Damage to your opponent's Life Points.” 
> 
> ...What? It’s Yugioh. Card games _have_ to feature somewhere. ;)


	8. III. RE:Set - Chapter Seven

  
**RE:Play** by _Shiraume_  


[Written: 5/29/2009 - 12/31/2010]

**III. RE:Set**

_Chapter Seven_

A lapwing called, lilting and long, hidden somewhere amidst the clumps of papyri trailing in the river. Another answered, this call sharper and more shrill, and a dozen lapwings flew up, ascending with their characteristic zigzag pattern. They soared slowly, almost lazily, close enough for Yuugi to make out the wispy black plumage sticking up from the crown. The tuft of green-tinted feather over their dark wings shimmered in the sunlight as they tumbled in the air, the entire group swerving over the riverbank. Yuugi watched their flight in fascination. These birds seemed to be ubiquitous along the Nile.

“Rehkyt,” Mahaad said quietly next to him, and Yuugi tilted his head up to look at him. “The lapwings. They live everywhere the water flows. And Hapi, the great river, flows throughout Kemet.” Kemet, Yuugi recalled, was how ancient Egyptians referred to their country. Mahaad looked at the birds fondly, watching them land in the thicket. “And that is why the symbol ‘rekhyt’ represents the common people.”

Yuugi nodded and did not answer verbally. Mahaad favored him with a sympathetic gaze.

“I know you were looking forward to visiting Ipet Resyt with the pharaoh, Yuugi. I’m sorry he couldn’t accompany you. But for the pharaoh, his people have always been the foremost concern of his heart.” Mahaad sounded proud, and Yuugi held back a sigh. He’d known that; Atem was a good king, and always put the needs of his people first. Atem could not very well take a leisure trip while the whole palace was in a state of emergency after yet another raid, followed by the news of a fire in Ineb Hedj.

“I understand. I’m not upset about it,” Yuugi told Mahaad, smiling to reassure him. Not upset, no. Only disappointed. He _had_ been looking forward to this trip, not just because he would see the full glory of what was the modern day temple of Luxor, but also because he thought he would finally have a chance to have that overdue talk with Atem and Kaiba. So far, Kaiba had studiously ignored Yuugi and stayed all of seventeen feet away on the other side of the barge, never once even looking in his direction. No one had figured out there was anything different about “Seth” yet, so Yuugi assumed Kaiba must had been performing Seth’s daily duties without fault. Still, did no one notice the king and one of his most trusted companions were not talking for a week ?

A thoughtful look came to Yuugi’s face. If anything, Mahaad would probably know what they were usually like. It was worth a try.

“Mahaad, are Atem and Seth close?” Yuugi asked without preamble. Mahaad didn’t seem surprised by the abruptness of his question. But then again, most of the questions he addressed to Mahaad must have appeared rather odd, even if Mahaad never said anything.

“Yes, though one wouldn’t know it by looking at them.” Mahaad chuckled, glancing at their silent companion on the far side of the barge. “Seth was only thirteen when he first entered the court and became one of the prince’s companions. They used to compete in absolutely everything. Mana could probably tell you a lot of interesting stories about their contests.”

Close, but not overtly. Then maybe no one had noticed the distance between them, after all. Yuugi decided on a different tact. “Anything they enjoy together? Like, something they both like to do?”

“Sparring,” Mahaad said promptly. “With magic or weapons.”

Big surprise there, Yuugi mused wryly. Even in the future Atem and Kaiba liked nothing better than to duel each other. Still, it was an idea. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me much. Do they spar a lot?”

“Not anymore. It wouldn’t be appropriate for a courtier to keep challenging the pharaoh.” Mahaad still had that fond, distant smile on his face, one that made his brown eyes soften. “When they were younger, it was the prince who kept challenging Seth. But the prince improved very quickly, so by the time the prince became the pharaoh, they were evenly matched. Their sparring sessions were something to see.”

“Really.” An idea forming in his mind, Yuugi smiled wider. Atem probably wouldn’t say no if he asked, and when had Kaiba ever turned down a challenge? After all, they’d always communicated best through their duels. And both were too proud to walk away from one. If a card game wasn’t an option here, this was probably the next best option.

“I will enjoy seeing you orchestrate this,” Mahaad commented idly, and Yuugi started. Mahaad was looking back at him with an amused expression. “You and the pharaoh _are_ quite alike in many ways, Yuugi. And I grew up with him.”

“Think Mana’d help me if I ask?” Yuugi grinned back. It was nice having both Mahaad and Isis behind him, it really was. Add Mana to the mix, and he had the perfect team. Atem and Kaiba wouldn’t know what hit them.

“You wouldn’t even have to ask,” Mahaad returned. “You know how she is.”

“Oh yeah.”

“I will leave you to your plans. We’ll be docking shortly, however, so you might want to save that thought for later?”

The trip didn’t take long, with the sails swollen with the southward wind pushing their vessel steadily upstream. Although manned by thirty rowers, evenly divided on either sides of the main hull, their ship had required very little rowing to make the short journey. The walls of the Ipet Resyt, the Southern Sanctuary, rose towering above them as they disembarked. Smaller than the sprawling complex of palace and temples that formed the Ipet Isut, the Most Selected of Places, the Southern Sanctuary was quieter yet had a distinguished and solemn atmosphere. Even more so than the multitude of wall-enclosed temples back in the royal city, this was a sanctified place, reserved only for the gods. Yuugi was amused to note Kaiba was similarly affected, looking around with interest. Quietly, Yuugi sidled closer to Kaiba, grateful that Mahaad, while keeping a close eye on their surroundings, nevertheless allowed him his privacy.

“It’s so quiet. Don’t people ever visit the temples here?”

Kaiba didn’t even glance at him, his attention on the twin obelisks and the pylon gate behind them. “They do, but common people aren’t allowed inside the sanctuary. The temples are earthly homes for the gods, and must be kept purified and separated from the rest of the world at all times. Only the king and the priests can enter after purifying themselves.” Yuugi smiled at his answer; this wasn’t actually Kaiba’s own knowledge at work here, but getting an answer from Seth always worked best when Kaiba was distracted. Like now.

He remembered something just then, and his mouth dropped open soundlessly. “Oh, so _that’s_ why Isis was upset about Anenut visiting the royal chapels.”

“She still does that?” Kaiba turned to him with a frown. “The pharaoh really should—” A dark look passed over his features as Kaiba refocused. “You,” he growled, blue eyes narrowed in annoyance.

Yuugi smiled disarmingly at him. “I heard she’s a relative of the royal family? Atem wouldn’t stop her. Besides, I think she’s actually nicer than she acts.”

“She’s not Mazaki,” Kaiba said bluntly, and Yuugi flinched at the reminder. Yuugi thought Kaiba noticed his reaction; whatever else Kaiba had planned to say, he seemed to reconsider, and did not say anything further.

Yuugi had never believed Kaiba was as cruel as he pretended to be. But it was nice to have proof, sometimes. As graciously as possible, he switched the subject to a more pressing agenda. “It’s too bad Atem couldn’t come with us. This would have given us a good chance to catch up without too many people noticing we’re all acting weird.”

Kaiba snorted. “He’s kept you closeted in his room for what, eight days now? ‘Acting weird’ doesn’t even begin to cover what the whole palace has been whispering. You’re lucky they bought the idiotic cover story he came up with.” The look in his blue eyes turned more distant and thoughtful, and Kaiba’s next words were a touch softer. “Even if he doesn’t care about the rumors he shouldn’t leave the palace just now. You did hear about the fire at Ineb Hedj?”

“Vaguely?” It was rare that Kaiba would engage him in a conversation this long. Yuugi hoped he didn’t sound as glad as he felt.

“The fire destroyed a part of the archives in the temple of Ptah. The temple of Ptah at Ineb Hedj is very old. There aren’t as many priests serving there now, and there was only one casualty. It turns out he was an old colleague of Lord Akhenaden’s. One of the original guardians of the Millennium Items, no less. Lord Akhenaden is very upset.”

Kaiba said “Lord Akhenaden” so easily, with the kind of unquestioning respect one would never expect from someone like him. Yuugi let the observation pass uncommented, more concerned about the news. “And this right after the latest raid in the city. No wonder everyone was so distracted today.”

“I’m surprised Atem pushed for you to come. He’d have preferred to keep both Mahaad and you at his side. If the raid was led by that Thief King—”

“Whoa. How much do you _know_ about this, Kaiba-kun? I only found out how much I’d missed after getting here.”

Kaiba smirked at him in that familiar, oh-so-smug way. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out. The Thief King’s resemblance to Bakura in our time is uncanny. Though I’m curious as to how the tomb robber ended up in the Millennium Ring in the first place.”

“No idea. Atem doesn’t know, either. We were thinking maybe it happened _after_ Atem sealed Zorc the first time around.” Yuugi was impressed. It also meant they didn’t have as much to catch up as he’d originally feared. “But if Bakura is preparing to strike—”

“Then it may be too late already.” Kaiba’s voice was harsh, but its cutting edge wasn’t directed at Yuugi. “Once the demon god is summoned, it may be impossible to open a path between the worlds until he’s been sealed away. I assume,” he looked at Yuugi sideways as he spoke, “you don’t want to stick around until Atem is sealed in the Millennium Puzzle.”

“...No.” Yuugi sighed. “But so far, we couldn’t find out anything. And...we talked about this before, about how we might be changing the way things happened in the past.” Atem hadn’t noticed any significant deviation yet, but he had also said his memories of the past weren’t perfect; like in any person’s memories, details of Atem’s old daily life had slipped away, leaving behind only the most important parts.

Interestingly, the memories left intact didn’t seem to include much about his queen. It had been a shock to realize Atem had been married at all, though in hindsight it should have been obvious. Yuugi chose not to dwell on that thought.

“Can he defeat Zorc this time around, I wonder,” Kaiba said, voice quiet. “If we come to that.”

That thought had haunted him more than once since arriving in this world. However, something else had arrested his attention so completely, Yuugi didn’t even pause to wonder at how Kaiba entertained a similar line of thought.

We. Kaiba had said ‘we.’ Unconsciously, perhaps unintentionally, but undeniably. Yuugi had to turn his face away to refrain from beaming at him. Together, they might find a way out of this. Maybe, everything really would be all right.

Whatever being ‘all right’ entailed, for one blissful moment, Yuugi was full of hope they could handle it.

“He knows the names of the Three Illusionary Gods. He could use his name to summon Horakhty.”

The raise of Kaiba’s brow was sardonic. “Now _that_ is what I’d call an unfair advantage.”

“Well, it’s a battle, not a duel.” That brought back another idea, one he thought might work wonderfully to reduce some tension between Atem and Kaiba. Hopefully it’d also bring them back on the same page. “Mahaad mentioned Seth and Atem used to spar a lot,” he offered nonchalantly. Kaiba gave him a small shrug.

“When they were younger,” Kaiba allowed. “Seth used to win all the time.”

“Really?” Or maybe, making the two of them spar wasn’t the brightest idea he’d had. At the best of the times Kaiba and Atem both had competitive streak a mile wide. Was it really wise to inflame the rivalry between two equally headstrong individuals with a pathological hatred for losing? Especially when they had such a long history of it?

“Seth is older by four years. It took Atem a while to catch up. Not too soon either, because Seth was getting really bored.”

...Or maybe, it was the best idea he had all day.

“Mahaad said their sparring sessions were really great to watch, though.” Slow. Easy. Let Kaiba draw his conclusion at his own pace.

“Passed the time, anyway. Aren’t you tired of watching Atem duel after two years?”

The sudden turnabout made Yuugi turn to Kaiba, wide-eyed. The smirk Kaiba gave him this time was maddeningly superior. So Kaiba _had_ noticed and only played along to turn the tables on him, the jerk. Yuugi was a bit surprised when Kaiba’s smirk softened a little, and realized he’d been pouting.

‘Gah! Not again.’ Yuugi felt like groaning. But much like the times with Mahaad, it had served its purpose. Kaiba wasn’t angry or annoyed, just amused, though the familiar edge of malice lingered just under the surface. “I’m just curious,” Yuugi cajoled, pressing his somewhat dubious advantage.

“I’m not here for your entertainment,” Kaiba growled, but it wasn’t a threatening one. “Or do you want to see Atem on his knees before me that badly?”

Yuugi choked.

No, surely Kaiba couldn’t have meant it _that_ way. And Kaiba was still smirking, Yuugi could tell even without looking. His face felt hot to the tips of his ears, and Yuugi gulped, trying to send the blood back down south before his brain burst.

“Maybe,” Yuugi managed after a moment. His blush was still not completely under control, but his voice was sufficiently laden with hint that Kaiba actually turned a surprised glance at him. Kaiba, being Kaiba, didn’t stay off balance for more than an instant.

“If you’re so set on it, why don’t you ask Atem?” Kaiba’s voice was a silken drawl, like a cat stretching its claws in anticipation of a pounce. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

“I’ll bet,” Yuugi muttered under his breath, feeling his face finally return to its normal temperature. “If you’re sure, Kaiba-kun,” he replied demurely, keeping in step with Kaiba with relative ease in their leisurely promenade through the temple. Oh yes. He _would_ enjoy this. And if he was feeling vindictive enough, Yuugi decided, he might even let slip the on his knees comment to Atem.

Swallowing a chuckle, Yuugi redirected his attention back to the sightseeing.

~*~*~*~

Despite Yuugi’s enthusiasm for the project, it was four days after their trip to Ipet Resyt that Atem was finally able to arrange some time off to have the highly anticipated sparring match with Kaiba.

Well, highly anticipated for Yuugi. Just now, he was beginning to regret setting up the whole event in the first place. Only Mahaad and Mana were present aside from himself, and they’d assured him Atem and Seth had matches like these hundreds of times before, and had survived those intact. Their words had been ominous than reassuring, and Yuugi, belatedly, realized he should have specified what kind of sparring match he’d wanted to see.

He had anticipated, perhaps because of the long history of Duel Monster games he’d gotten so used to, that the match would be with magic. Both Atem and Kaiba had chosen bladed weapons, however, as if the thought of a duel using magic had never crossed their minds. Their only concession for protective equipment was a leather guard over their chest, and a wooden shield covered with leather. Yuugi’s eyes kept straying to the wicked curved blades whose sharpened edges shimmered in the sunlight, and he was back to biting his nails.

Mahaad checked over both of them briefly, then walked out of the training arena, and that was it. Yuugi swallowed, and held his breath.

“Start!”

The two blades hovered in the air, held out before in a silent salute. Then a sharp clang as their khopesh met was the only warning Yuugi had before the two opponents leaped into battle.

Yuugi’s breath caught, watching Atem’s khopesh catch Kaiba’s with margin too narrow for even single mistake, forced back a step under the force of the blow. Kaiba immediately pressed his advantage – or tried to, and found his blade caught on the upper edge of Atem’s sword. Atem pushed hard, and the move should have cost Kaiba his sword, except at the last minute, Kaiba brought down his own shield to slam against Atem’s, and the recoil sent Atem stumbling back a couple steps, eyes narrowed in irritation. The obvious difference in physical strength meant Atem would never have luck going up against Kaiba with force alone. And Kaiba – or was it Seth, given that Kaiba was really relying on Seth’s experience and knowledge to spar? – fought rough, unstinting about using his opponent’s weakness against him. Kaiba smirked at him, both a challenge and a dismissal, and Atem’s eyes glittered in answer.

Then Atem charged at him, with a swift swipe of his shield to knock aside Kaiba’s blade and following immediately with a lightening slash to the middle. Kaiba fielded the blow with his shield arm, but in the split second both his hands were occupied, Atem’s foot flashed near Kaiba’s ankles, sending him to the floor hard. Yuugi blinked, surprised to see Atem land on top of Kaiba as well. The two of them rolled with the momentum, and Atem ended up pinned to the floor under his heavier opponent. It was then Yuugi noticed Kaiba’s hand pressing down on Atem’s sword hand, and realized what happened: as soon as Atem’s blade slid past the leather shield, Kaiba had discarded it in favor of grabbing Atem’s wrist, using the momentum of their fall to pin him. Kaiba growled something to Atem that made his eyes darken, and a vicious kick, just barely blocked, forced Kaiba off him. While Kaiba smoothly rolled back to his feet, Atem sprang to his feet the instant the restraining weight was gone. They circled again, eyes never leaving each other.

Yuugi leaned back, feeling his heart continue its rapid flutter in his chest, and took a deep breath to calm himself. Mana’s hand found his shoulder, and she shot him a reassuring smile. And that was all the time he had to catch his breath before Kaiba made his next move: a hard kick to send Atem’s shield skittering across the floor, and a follow-up thrust that Atem avoided by a hairbreadth. Atem’s hand shot out to grab Kaiba’s arm as the sword whistled past his torso, and spun them in a tight loop, but before Atem’s sword finished its arc, Kaiba’s hand lashed out. Just before the blow connected with his ribs, Atem vaulted overhead in a half-somersault using Kaiba’s shoulder as a springboard. When they both spun to face each other this time, Atem’s lips were curled back in a fierce grin. Kaiba bared his teeth with a snarling laugh, and something electric seemed to charge the air between them. If they’d been focused on each other before, now they were wholly absorbed in each other, nothing else in their world, no holds barred and nothing held back.

It was so much more intense than watching them duel with cards, this deadly exchange. Sweat made their skin glisten, and Yuugi found his eyes following every movement as Kaiba swept the sweat from his brows. There was something deeply sensual about the stretch of sinew and flex of muscle, and the hard, tight bodies wrapped in little more than danger and violence. Both Atem and Kaiba had foregone their usual outfits in favor of a much shorter shendyt that only reached to their mid-thighs, allowing greater freedom of movement. And the thin linen cloth, damp with sweat, clung to them in a way that made it hard for Yuugi to breathe. 

Strikes and parries continued to meld together at a dizzying pace. And Yuugi swallowed hard, watching their movements flow in an oddly graceful dance, if any dance could be choreographed with so much lethal edge woven into every step. Atem moved a bit farther in his next attack, and Kaiba stepped aside with practiced ease, only Atem whirled at the same moment. A feint, Yuugi realized with a short start, then Atem’s shape blurred, lightning quick, and—

“Careless,” Kaiba rumbled, voice a low drawl in Atem’s ear. He’d materialized behind Atem, and was already moving to block his escape. But even as Kaiba’s sword arm came up, Atem twisted to his side, and Kaiba blinked in surprise.

“Likewise,” Atem purred, the wicked edge of the blade resting casually against the side of Kaiba’s neck. Before Kaiba’s sword could hold him in place, the sharp edge mere inches away from his throat, Atem had switched the sword to his left hand to pin Kaiba in a similar fashion. The two of them held perfectly still, bodies still tense and poised for action, the silent challenge clear in the locked gaze. Kaiba bared his teeth, and they both tensed, preparing to—

“My king,” Mahaad called loudly, cutting through the tension between them. “Seth,” he added for good measure, and after another heartbeat, the two contestants separated, lowering their swords in perfect unison.

Yuugi let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, feeling his knees wobble in the wake of the sudden drain of tension. For a moment there, it looked like the two of them would have either gone on to a bloody conclusion, or—

“My king,” Mahaad called again, softer, but no less insistent, and Yuugi started, realizing they had gained more spectators. Karim stood beside Mahaad, face torn between disapproving and amused. Just now, the priest held an uncanny resemblance to Rishid, who wore the same expression of exasperated worry and obvious pride whenever treated with the latest crazy bike stunt Malik pulled. “Shaada has returned,” Mahaad informed Atem, who nodded and accepted a towel and a goblet of water from Mana and headed toward the two priests. Mana made a beeline for Kaiba to offer the same, who accepted them with a small nod.

“Will you accompany Yuugi to my chambers, Seth?” Atem called across the room, and Yuugi and Kaiba both turned to him, one puzzled, the other inquisitive. “I need to speak to you both as soon as I hear Shaada’s report.”

Kaiba grunted his assent. Karim and Atem, already engaged in a conversation as they left, did not notice the way Mana was eyeing the two sides, as if trying to decide which party to go after first. Before she could decide, however, Mahaad beckoned her aside with a disapproving look, and Yuugi bit back a laugh. Only after mouthing at him _Later_ did Mana go to join her mentor, leaving Yuugi alone with Kaiba.

“That was amazing,” Yuugi commented as they left the sparring area, after struggling to find something less inappropriate than, “You two were really _hot_.” Kaiba let out another noncommittal sound, which Yuugi decided wasn’t meant to be dismissive, and Yuugi plowed on. “How often did you two do that? When you said sparring session, I thought you meant magic.”

“Often enough,” Kaiba replied, but his attention wasn’t entirely on Yuugi. “Magic is...” Here, he paused for a second, hand tightening on the Millennium Rod. “We’d both be using the Millennium Items,” was what Kaiba eventually said. Yuugi acknowledged his point with a nod; knowing their true history, it would be unnerving for both Atem and Kaiba to use them casually.

“And without the Black Magician and the Blue-Eyes White Dragon, it wouldn’t be the same?” Yuugi couldn’t help teasing, just a little, mostly to lighten the mood. Kaiba gave him an unimpressed look, but did not dispute the point.

Then, a hauntingly familiar voice made Yuugi stop dead in his tracks. A shade darker than the blonde hair he was accustomed to seeing for the past two years, but the unruly mop of hair and brown eyes were unmistakable. Before he’d even realized it himself, Yuugi had sprinted across the courtyard to launch himself at the taller boy.

“Whoa—” Yuugi wasn’t big enough to knock him over, and the taller boy regained balance shortly. “Hey now, where did you come from?”

“Jounouchi-kun...?” Yuugi inquired, suddenly feeling timid. He’d been so glad just at the sight of a person who looked exactly like Jounouchi, he hadn’t even thought to wonder if it really _was_ his friend before tackling him in a hug.

“Um, hey, kid? Can you let go? I have to—”

“Djehuty! What’s the hold up?” It was the voice of the storage master. Jarred back to the present, Yuugi looked up, desperately searching the brown eyes for any hint of recognition.

“Listen, I really have to go. If you can just let go, um—”

“Yuugi,” he whispered. “It’s Yuugi.” Letting go was hard. Even if it wasn’t him, this person even frowned just like Jounouchi.

“Yuugi. I guess you, er, got me mixed up with somebody else, huh?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” The call from the storage master was decidedly less patient this time, and the boy bent over to retrieve the scroll he’d dropped. “I have to go. Later, eh?”

Djehuty. His name was Djehuty. “Yes.”

Yuugi stared after Djehuty’s retreating back for a long time. He could hear Kaiba step toward him until they were shoulder to shoulder, but did not look at him. Now wasn’t a moment Yuugi wanted company for.

“Was it Jounouchi?” Kaiba’s voice was neutral, almost diplomatic – an effort not to antagonize him, probably. Yuugi found it endearing enough to feel a little better. After Anzu, it was painful to confirm Jounouchi wasn’t here, either.

“No,” Yuugi said softly. “It wasn’t Jounouchi-kun. I guess Honda-kun probably isn’t here either, then.”

Kaiba frowned minutely. “Ah.” His tone held both an affirmative and an unspoken understanding. He said nothing more, but did not move away from Yuugi, either. And Kaiba never stayed in someone else’s company longer than strictly necessary.

Armed with that tidbit, Yuugi managed a smile at him. “Thanks, Kaiba-kun.”

“For what?” Back to suspicion now. But was it just him, or was that also lessening of late? Yuugi’s brain, thankfully, was still alert enough to answer the question with more tact than, “For being here,” or something equally sappy.

“I think I would have been a lot more scared if it was just Atem and me here,” was what Yuugi eventually settled on.

Kaiba snorted. “I doubt that.” Yuugi turned a questioning – and disarming, he hoped – look at him, and Kaiba sighed. “You’re not that easily intimidated,” Kaiba said, and it was as close to praise as he’d ever given him, and Yuugi barely kept from beaming. If Yuugi hadn’t known him as well as he did, he wouldn’t have recognized the moment of hesitation that followed for what it was. “About Anenut. Isis mentioned a rumor she’s gotten engaged.”

Yuugi froze. “To whom?”

“To a courtier named Paramesse. He’s one of the old nobility from Djanet , in the delta. Rich. His wife died a few years ago.”

“He was married before?” How old was this Paramesse?

“He’s twice her age,” Kaiba confirmed with disdain. “Though her family probably considers it a good match. Anenut may be of royal blood, but her father’s status wouldn’t have let her dream of marrying a man of Paramesse’s standing and wealth. But second wife to a man who already has his heir – that’s different.”

And it suddenly made sense why he hadn’t seen her around the palace the last few days. Yuugi winced at the stab of guilt. He’d meant to get to know her better. He felt he owed it to Anzu, in some weird way, to at least try being Anenut’s friend. Maybe he’d unconsciously avoided her so he wouldn’t find even more differences that would remind him Anenut was not and could never be Anzu.

“Like I said, it’s only a rumor.” Kaiba’s words held uncharacteristic consideration, and it was enough to make Yuugi smile at him with warmth and gratitude. Kaiba entered Atem’s chambers with him, but made him wait in the antechamber while he checked for any sign of threat. Yuugi was a bit startled at the way Kaiba made his round as if he did it all the time, automatically assuming the role of his protector. He settled on one of the chairs, but Kaiba did not follow the suit. “I need to check the updates on the raids. I’ll come join you after I finish.”

“I’ll let Atem know. Thanks, Kaiba-kun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sparring match between Atem and Kaiba was inspired by many things, including _The Mummy (1999)_ and _The Mummy Returns (2001)_ , but the most important one is this one: [“Sweet Defeat”](http://egosun.deviantart.com/art/sweet-defeat-46681483) by [egosun](http://egosun.deviantart.com/) on DeviantArt. A hot, hot picture is every kinds of worth a thousand words. ;)
> 
> The shendyt I pictured them wearing is the shorter military version, from the [Wikipedia article on shendyt](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shendyt). Khopesh was not featured in Yugioh canon, at least that I can remember, although in _The Mummy (1999)_ the mummified Medjai wield it. As far as I know, its usage would be historically correct for 18th dynasty.
> 
> A bit more about names, though this really should have gone with Chapter Six. Maai is obviously the present-day Kujaku Mai, and her name is taken from a Hittite verb meaning to grow or ripen. (The signet ring she examines in Chapter Six bears a seal based on that of Queen Puduhepa of Hittite Empire. A hint to her origin – told you I had a full headcanon past history cooked up.) Djehuty (Jounouchi) is the proper Egyptian name for the god more popularly known as Thoth. Hondo (Honda) is supposed to be a name of either Egyptian or African origin, and means war or warrior. I went mainly by the sound similarity than meaning, but it turns out most of them had perfect meanings to go with each.
> 
> Rekhyt I first learned from a National Geographic article on Hatshepsut, and I think Kemet and Hapi have been explained in-story. Nile was called “iteru” as well, but I felt Hapi would be more familiar, being also the name of Nile’s deity. Ipet Isut is the ancient name for what is the present-day Karnak temple complex, and Ipet Resyt, as mentioned, is Luxor. It’s interesting to juxtapose the map of the “royal city” given in Yugioh manga with the actual layout of the Karnak-Luxor complexes.
> 
> The description of the ship is meant to be historically accurate. Apparently, traveling by ship was easy since on the Nile, the wind always blows southward (upstream), and little rowing was required to travel upriver. To travel downriver, the ship only had to lower the sail. I’ll put up the reference I used if I can find it amidst my million folders.
> 
> Paramesse is based on a real historical person. I’ll explain about that one later, probably in chapter ten.
> 
> I think that brings me up to date with historical notes. If I forgot about something, message me or comment to let me know.


	9. III. RE:Set - Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!!!

  
**RE:Play** by _Shiraume_  


[Written: 5/29/2009 - 12/31/2010]

**III. RE:Set**

_Chapter Eight_

He did not, it turned out, have to wait long. Less than twenty minutes later, Atem came in, looking a bit worse for wear. Atem’s expression brightened a bit when he saw Yuugi, and Yuugi smiled at him in welcome.

“Hey. Kaiba-kun—”

“—Will be joining us as soon as he’s done with the new reports. I know. I ran into him. I’m going to have to take a look at what he has, but...”

“What’s wrong?”

Atem came to plop down in a chair next to him, looking more tired than could be attributed to his exertion earlier. “It seems like Bakura wasn’t the one leading the last raid. And...” Atem rubbed his neck, rotating his shoulder to relieve some of the tension. “I was hoping Shaada would be able to uncover something at Ineb Hedj. No such luck. Akhenaden is quite upset and has closeted himself in the Temple of the Stone Tablets. Which is the last place we want him right now.”

“Kaiba-kun said Priest Akhenaden lost a friend in that fire,” Yuugi commented, moving behind Atem to rub his neck. Atem let out a grateful sound as Yuugi kneaded his back.

“The archive had a lot of old texts and all of them burned down completely. And no one seems to know how the fire started. But what worries me more is that Shaada tells me that a part of the temple collapsed completely. From his description, almost as if,” Atem chose his words with care, “a violent earthquake selectively hit just that section of the temple.”

It only took Yuugi a moment to follow Atem’s line of thoughts. “Magic?”

“There are spell cards that can cause earthquakes,” Atem agreed grimly. “And there is Akhenaden’s old colleague to consider. A former guardian of the Millennium Items, no less. Roughly at the same time the bandits strike here, but not led by Bakura.”

“Wait, you don’t remember any of this?”

Atem paused only briefly, but Yuugi knew him well enough to pick out the hesitation when he spoke. “No. It could have slipped my mind.”

“Or something might have changed,” Yuugi finished. A chill spread through him at the thought. The peace of the last few days had lulled him into letting his guard down. “We still haven’t figured out a way out of here.”

“No.” Atem took Yuugi’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Isis and Mahaad have been looking into the Gate to the Underworld. So far, they haven’t had much luck, but there has to be something. If we assume Seth was the one who rebuilt the Temple of the Underworld, he must have known about it from _somewhere_.”

“Right.”

“By the way, did you know you had my deck?”

“Hm?”

“I found it in your pocket when I sent your uniform to be washed. It makes sense. I was in your body when I walked in there for the battle ceremony.” He must have had a flabbergasted look on his face, because Atem chuckled. “You forgot, huh?”

Yuugi shook his head. “Completely. I can’t believe I forgot.” Kaiba’s deck, on the other hand, was probably not here, given that only Kaiba’s soul seemed to have been transported. “Would your cards work here? I mean, cards like Black Magician and Black Magician Girl?”

“I don’t know. I’m not in a hurry to find out, but...” Atem tugged at his hand, and Yuugi came around the chair to sit next to him. “I have something else I wanted to give you.”

“What is it?”

Atem wordlessly held Yuugi’s hand palm up and opened his other hand over it, letting something small and heavy drop on Yuugi’s palm. At first, Yuugi didn’t recognize it. When he did, however, his mouth dropped open.

“Anzu’s cartouche.”

He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. Without Anzu’s thoughtful gift, they would have _lost_ the battle against Zorc Necrophades, unable to tell Atem the name they’d found hidden deep inside Atem’s tomb. With their thoughts, they – Yuugi, Anzu, Jounouchi, and Honda – had engraved on its silvery surface the true name of the Nameless Pharaoh. Of course, in the real world, the real cartouche pendant remained untouched, since the whole event had taken place in the Memory World. He’d worn it anyway on the day they went to complete the battle ceremony, as a reminder and a good luck charm. Yuugi turned over the cartouche, and started. There, on the reverse side, was his own name, the kanji characters for ‘Yuugi’ engraved in bold strokes. On the obverse was Atem’s name in hieroglyphics.

“Atem.” Yuugi breathed, not knowing quite what to say. Atem looked a little bit embarrassed but pleased by his reaction.

“My name was your gift to me,” Atem said softly. “Both of them.”

For some reason Yuugi’s throat felt dry, and it took him a few swallows before he found his voice. “Not just from me. From all of us.” Jounouchi, Honda, Anzu, even Kaiba. All of them had worked together for Atem’s name and the victory over Zorc Necrophades. Atem’s lips curved in a small smile accompanied by a short nod, and Yuugi turned his head to hide a blush.

Atem had already changed out of his combat outfit, but even without the ensemble that barely skirted edges of propriety, Atem didn’t look any less appealing. Yuugi remembered the way the short shendyt had clung to Atem’s hips, and bit his lip. Add Kaiba to the mix, and it was enough to make Yuugi want to groan. At least before, Atem and Kaiba’s chemistry had never been quite so explosive.

“You had me worried there, you know. When you were sparring with Kaiba-kun.” Alright, so that was a blatant attempt at changing the topic.

Atem briefly looked like he wanted to apologize. “Seth and I used to spar all the time when we were younger. We haven’t killed each other yet.”

“No, it was—” Smoking hot? Distracting as hell? “I just...didn’t expect it, is all,” Yuugi finished lamely, fighting down another blush. Atem studied him for a moment, then a devious smirk rose to his lips. Before Atem could ask him anything embarrassing, Yuugi continued with the first thing that came to his mind. “I think Kaiba-kun left a trail of broken hearts on our way to your room. All the women—”

“You found _Kaiba_ hot?” Atem interrupted him, annoyance battling disbelief in his tone.

Yuugi looked at him with a wide-eyed surprise of his own. Was Atem really that oblivious to the chemistry between himself and Kaiba? “You don’t?”

Atem opened his mouth, but nothing escaped him. A heartbeat later, he closed his mouth and refused to answer.

Yuugi chuckled at him. “See?”

“I’m reasonably sure I didn’t used to think about Seth that way,” Atem muttered.

“And Kaiba-kun?”

Atem was silent.

“Well. I don’t know about Seth. But I definitely find both of you, um...” Yuugi trailed off in embarrassment.

After a long, assessing look, Atem turned his gaze to his feet instead. “Does he know?”

“Ahaha, no, I don’t think so. For one, Kaiba-kun would have punched me into the wall if he knew.”

Atem didn’t smile. “I don’t think he would. Not intentionally.”

“Atem?” The unsmiling expression was beginning to worry him. 

“He’s not _safe_. Kaiba is—” Bitter amusement twisted his lips, and Yuugi frowned, troubled by the harsh smirk that made him look chillingly like his old self, the one Yuugi wasn’t supposed to know about. “Not that I have room to talk.”

“Before you and I...before Death-T.” Yuugi knew his words were jumbled. He also knew Atem would understand what he meant regardless. “Did you kill using my body?”

“Yes.” Atem’s reply was short and harsh.

The first and only time Yuugi had been a conscious witness to Atem’s willingness – attempt, even – to kill was back in Duelist Kingdom, with Kaiba. Yuugi knew that hadn’t been the first time, in fact had suspected a great deal more, but hadn’t let on because he’d _felt_ Atem’s pain as he was forced to decide their grandfather’s life was more important than Kaiba’s. That decision hadn’t been easily made, nor had Atem spared himself the memory of that experience for a long time afterward. Besides, Atem had changed after that, enough to recognize the hatred that crippled Kaiba in their duel during the Battle City Tournament. So Yuugi had told himself it didn’t matter what Atem had been like before they were fully conscious of each other. That was in the past. He’d grown to love the person Atem had become, and the two of them had grown stronger – better – together.

But Atem of the past was a different matter. That had bothered him the most yesterday, when he listened to Mahaad and Mana’s story about Atem’s life here. It was hard to reconcile the Atem of the past – the little prince who pulled outrageous pranks and loved to make his companions smile – with the relentless spirit of the Puzzle. 3,000 years of wait locked inside the shattered Puzzle with no memories or even sense of self...Yuugi was no fool. He knew the strange, tacit understanding between Kaiba and the Other Yuugi had a lot to do with the darkness they both knew so well. 

“Did Kaiba-kun ever...?” Yuugi forced his voice to a level above a whisper, but just barely.

Atem did not meet his eyes. “I don’t know. His heart was never open to me the way yours was. But I _know_ he can – would have, if he needed to.”

Given how closely Death-T had skirted mortal danger, Yuugi couldn’t deny the validity of the claim. Yet, for all that, Atem had never hesitated to trust Kaiba. So why the sudden distrust?

“Even now?” Atem did not reply, his gaze pensive. “You would trust him with your life, but not your heart?” Yuugi asked as gently as possible. Atem stiffened, and looked up to meet his eyes for the first time since their conversation took a turn for the bizarre.

“It’s not my heart I’m worried about, aibou,” Atem said slowly, and Yuugi froze. Dear God, how could he have forgotten? If the three of them found a way out of here, then he and Kaiba would return to the future, and Atem would move on to his afterlife. If they remained trapped here until all the past events played out, Atem would be sealed in the Millennium Puzzle for the next three thousand years, and they... Either way, Atem wasn’t going to be around for long.

Then, something else occurred to him: Atem didn’t expect Kaiba to reject Yuugi. If Kaiba hurt him, it would be through Kaiba being Kaiba, not through a rejection. And Atem was worried because he wasn’t going to be with Yuugi much longer, while Kaiba was for the foreseeable future.

Yuugi clenched his teeth until his jaw ached, afraid he might say something that would make things worse. But it was impossible not to wonder, to ignore the whisper of temptation that entered his mind when he first came to the past. Why couldn’t they consider a third option? Since they were in the past already, why not simply change it for the better? Who knew, maybe that was the reason they were sent here in the first place.

The voice of Atem’s attendants announcing Priest Seth’s arrival startled Yuugi out of his thoughts. Yuugi turned to Atem, who gave him a fleeting, speaking look before wiping his face clean of expression, and reluctantly, Yuugi unclenched his hands, turning his attention back to the door.

~*~*~*~

The downside of having looks that stood out, Bakura decided glumly, was that – well, you stood out.

Especially when he was trying to be discreet. Like today, checking out what his band of men had been up to during his prolonged absence . Much to his embarrassment, it turned out the idiots had launched one and a half failed raids on the royal city without him. And judging from the way they were drunkenly waving weapons and closing in on him and Hondo, the pigheaded idiots had mutinied at some point and had a new leader.

Hondo cleared his throat, still looking annoyingly calm. “Not quite the reception you were looking for?” he asked mildly, earning a dark look from Bakura.

He really should have remembered his men were a band of murderous thieves who would like nothing better than to stab him in the back given half the chance. Bakura was beginning to regret not following his first instinct and slaughtering a choice few members to make a point when he first took over. It figured his one moment of leniency would come back to bite him in the ass. The way their new feckless leader was brandishing his club while screaming out orders to kill Bakura and his companion was beginning to annoy him.

...He definitely should have killed at least half of them when he first took over, starting with the particularly annoying idiot currently (and very temporarily) in charge.

“And you do realize that technically, my employment in your service is over now that we’ve reached the royal city?”

Damn the mercenaries and their money-grasping ancestors straight to Ammit’s jaws, today was not his day.

“And if I offered you twice the contract payment if you remain in my service one more day?”

Hondo shrugged. “You got yourself a deal.”

The next moment, the mercenary was already in the air, bowling over one of the charging thieves on his way to dispatch the next two. Bakura took another moment to appreciate the irony: if the only usable help was a paid one nowadays, being a thief was not what it used to be.

“We’re going to lure them away,” he said when the two of them met in the center of the tavern, fighting back to back.

A vicious kick-and-spin from Hondo sent a bendy-legged thief flying into the one behind him, leaving both in a tangled heap on the floor. “Where?”

“In case you still don’t get it,” Bakura huffed, turning even as blood splashed on his sleeve, leaving his assailant sinking to the floor, eyes wide and clutching at his slashed throat. “I lead, you follow. Now move it.”

It was only a short ride to the ruins of Kur-Elna, and Bakura felt grim satisfaction flood him when the band of thieves chasing them did not slow down even as they entered the town. No one had inhabited the place since its destruction fifteen years ago, and the eerie silence should have warned any discerning soul this was no place for the living. Luckily, the bandits seemed unmindful, and followed in hot pursuit while the two of them swiftly moved deeper into the ruins. Hondo glanced around them uneasily, but did not comment as they stopped to dismount.

Bakura felt his nerves falter when he saw the gaping opening to the underground temple. The door had been thrown open (he made a note to find out later what brave fool had ventured out this far), and the pitch-black passage was like a gaping mouth. Hondo was right behind him, holding fast the reins of their horses, both of which were thoroughly spooked.

“Tie them,” Bakura told him, and busied himself making a makeshift torch while Hondo secured the poor animals nearby.

Hondo’s expression told him what he thought about going in, but the mercenary only held up a hand. “Yeah, yeah, you lead, I follow. Lead on, boss.”

Bakura had thoroughly studied the Millennium Grimoire on their way back to the royal city, aided by the scrolls they’d taken from the temple of Ptah, which turned out to be a set of translation and meticulous notes on the riddling text. By the dim torchlight, he could make out the round stone, the blood-filled cradle of the Millennium Items. His hands trembled as he opened the Grimoire to the marked page, and started to read the dark spell written there.

“Bakura,” Hondo called quietly, his voice nervous. Cold air gathered around them, plunging the temperature to a freezing chill. The darkness was deepening also. The first of the wails made them both jump, and then Bakura saw, horror mingling with terror, streams of restless souls throng, circling around like ravenous wolves. The hate was a tangible, writhing thing around them, coupled with fear and fury. The vengeful spirits began to aggregate, and a gust of wind blew the dust off the floor, gathering around them. Then, with a violent explosion outward, the souls condensed to a shape, its terrible form matching their murderous hate.

The terror was only a pale shadow in his mind, all but eclipsed by the triumph. Bakura laughed, stretching both arms toward the twisted, monstrous product of grudge from ninety-nine souls. “The power of vengeance! Mine at last.” The monster was flickering in and out of existence, but was still visible enough to elicit cries of surprise and fear from the bandits, who had finally caught up with them. Bakura’s eyes gleamed as he looked at them.

“Feast on those fools, Diabound! Together, we will bring down the house of Akhnamkanen, and take our revenge!”

~*~*~*~

Hondo felt a wave of nausea as the monster streaked past them, devouring the hapless thieves, gorging itself on their blood and agony. The mad light in Bakura’s eyes as the thief watched and laughed sent a chill down his spine. He had no need to ask if Bakura had planned this all along, had lured out the band of his treacherous men to this gods-forsaken village expressly to feed them to his monster. No wonder the old mage had tried to kill them rather than let them take the Grimoire. If the book had given Bakura the knowledge to call out that monster, then the book contained more evil than the entire Underworld. And Bakura had _known_ that, had deliberately sought it out for the sake of vengeance.

Hearing the terrified screams of the unfortunate thieves, Hondo shivered. He was in over his head if Bakura had been after revenge all along. He’d seen what a quest for revenge could do. Had witnessed an entire city burned for the sake of revenge. Men, women, and children – _innocents_ – all fallen victim to a reckless hate. 

...Among them had been a young priestess-in-training in a temple of Djehuty, with lovely doe eyes and beautiful brown hair falling down her back, her face radiant as the gleaming lotus from the sacred lake...

Another shrill scream tore him away from the memory, and Hondo closed his eyes in spite of his training, against his finely honed instincts as a warrior, wishing he could close his ears, too. When the last of the screams faded away, Hondo cautiously opened his eyes, and gasped. The monster, which had been faint and hazy when first called, now seemed completely solid, towering over them, its head nearly reaching the high ceiling. Every inch of the monster’s grotesque form was covered in blood and torn flesh, which made Hondo grimace against his will, but Bakura seemed oblivious, amber eyes locked with the monster’s glowing ones, sharing a strange, mutual understanding.

Hondo cleared his throat, keeping his eyes on Bakura to avoid looking at the monster. “If you have no further use of my service, Bakura, I would like to terminate our contract early.”

Bakura took off his eyes from the monster with visible reluctance. “I could use a man like you for my future plans, especially now that my men have outlived their usefulness.”

Hondo was very much aware how much danger he was in. Bakura hadn’t balked at consigning his former comrades to a brutal end; if Bakura decided to turn on his contracted employee as well, with the might of this horrific monster at his command... “I’ve told you before, I plan to head south after reaching the royal city.” Only the sheer force of will kept the fear out of his voice. “And I have helped you against your treacherous men, as you asked,” Hondo reminded him, a subtle appeal to the sense of honor that Bakura might or might not have retained.

Bakura’s amber eyes swept over him, and it took considerable effort on Hondo’s part to remain still. After a short pause, Bakura spoke. “Do you know what that is?” Mutely, Hondo shook his head. “Its name is Diabound. But do you know where it came from? What it originally was?”

“I can’t say I do,” Hondo replied, feeling a bit calmer, though no less wary. If Bakura was talking, he wasn’t ready to throw Hondo to the monster just yet.

“There were people living in this village fifteen years ago. Not the reputable sort, to be sure – this place was a den of thieves and grave robbers. But it was the only home I’ve known.” Something softened in the cool amber gaze, and for a moment, he looked like the old Bakura Hondo met in Ineb Hedj. “One night, soldiers came and killed everyone in the village. Then, here, where we stand, four mages performed a ritual of dark alchemy, using the flesh and blood of the ninety-nine villagers killed here, to create certain artifacts of immense power. Artifacts that...” A snarl twisted his face into something less human, and Hondo took an involuntary step backward. “Artifacts that bound the sacrificed souls to an eternal torment without rest, all to fuel that power.” Rage choked his words, and it took Bakura a moment to compose himself and continue. “And when the pharaoh won the war against the invaders using those artifacts, ignorant fools cheered and worshipped him as a god. A sanctified murderer, bathed with the blood of his own people.”

“How...” Hondo cleared his throat, and tried again. “How do you know if the pharaoh was really behind it?” He only knew the late King Akhnamkanen by reputation, but by all account he had been a wise and just ruler who cared for his people.

The feral gleam in his eyes made Bakura appear more like a beast than human, like a hungry wolf about to pounce on a kill. “Because the mage who performed the ritual, the very man who had translated and deciphered the text of the Millennium Grimoire, is none other than his closest advisor and confidant.” Bakura spat out the name like a curse. “Akhenaden.”

Put it like that... “And the king’s guards were the ones who accompanied Akhenaden that night, I presume.” Bakura’s jaws tightened, and he gave a short nod. Hondo was beginning to understand why revenge might be such a driving force for Bakura.

“They weren’t _good_ people. Petty thieves, robbers... Many robbed graves, including the royal tombs. But they were my family. No matter what kind of low-life scum they might have been, they didn’t deserve to be slaughtered as blood sacrifice, or have their souls trapped for all eternity. This,” Bakura jerked a thumb toward the monster hulking over them, “is all that remains of them now. Their anger, their hate, their grief – Diabound is their only vessel in this world. For their revenge.”

Hondo looked at the Diabound, which was no less terrifying after learning its true nature, but the horror was now mingled with pity. The eerie, glowing eyes of the monster held no recognition, no reason. The vacant pools reflected only the abject madness borne of despair.

“I do understand, Bakura,” Hondo said finally. “But revenge is a personal business. And I’ve learned my lesson long ago about getting involved in personal businesses.”

Bakura studied him, then nodded. “You’ve fulfilled your end.” A flick of the wrist, and Hondo caught a sizable purse thrown his way. “I would get out of town fast, if I were you.”

“Duly noted.” Hondo debated wishing him luck, or saying something friendly as a farewell, but dropped the idea. Revenge had a funny way of messing with one’s head. Whatever humanity Bakura had left was quickly being burned out of him, consumed by the ever-growing fire of vengeance. Best not to press his luck. It wasn’t as if they were friends.

Scarce seconds later Hondo was outside the gloomy chamber and galloping away on his horse. As the steed gladly put more distance between him and the terrible secret hidden deep underground, Hondo urged the horse even faster, remembering Diabound’s soulless gaze on him. It wasn’t until he was halfway across the river that he dared to look back at the towering cliff, shuddering at the memory of the writhing horror Bakura had called out from the bowels of Ammit.

To hell with further employment plans in the royal city. As soon as the dawn came, he was catching the first ship out of here. Resolutely, Hondo turned his attention to the dark water, huddled in the cool breeze of the river.

~*~*~*~

“...and I doubt they’ll recover anything more,” Seto finished. After a few seconds ticked by, he narrowed his eyes. Atem’s eyes had a distant look to them, and he knew the pharaoh had not heard a word he said. For a brief moment, Seto considered yelling at him, but a better idea came to him given the likely source of Atem’s distraction.

“Yuugi’s planning to elope with Anenut,” Seto remarked casually.

“What?”

Seto gave him a bored look, ignoring Atem’s indignation with ease borne of practice. Over two lifetimes, no less. “If you’re going to waste my time after your little speech on working to get us out of here, don’t bother calling me.”

Atem had the grace to look a bit sheepish at that. “Sorry. I was...”

“Thinking about how much time Yuugi spends with the Jounouchi-lookalike lately ?” Atem was easier to deal with when his thoughts were so transparent, and Seto couldn’t help a smirk. “Jealous much?”

“ _You_ noticed it, too,” Atem shot back, defensiveness a spinal reflex. Seto shrugged, deliberately dismissive because he knew it would exasperate Atem.

“It’s not my business who Yuugi wastes his time with.” Still, it wasn’t as if he didn’t know when they left, Atem and Yuugi would be separated for good. Not that he felt any need to take it easier on Atem because of that, but there was nothing to be gained by being more antagonistic than strictly necessary, especially since – as much as it galled him to admit – they probably needed Atem’s full cooperation to escape from this place successfully. “And he _is_ wasting his time. It’s not Jounouchi.”

“After Anenut, I can hardly blame him,” Atem murmured, eyes surprisingly gentle. It was startling, what that expression did to Atem’s usually unyielding countenance. Even in Seth’s memories, Atem was rarely that open (at least while awake). Seto shook himself from the swirl of memories, of a younger Atem trustingly asleep with his head resting on Seto’s knee, exhausted after a sparring session. Another memory, this one more difficult to push away because of the unfulfilled longing behind it, made him clench his hands tightly. A thirteen-year-old Atem, not long after he finally started winning against Seth in their sparring matches, slender limbs sprawled against him with a heedless grace. So achingly beautiful, glowing in the afternoon sun. And the shock of the warmth as Atem curled his fingers around Seth’s knee...

“And right back at you, Kaiba. You were saying?”

It took him another moment to pull away from the memory of intense desire, and he scowled, annoyed to have been caught in a moment of distraction. Still, his pride wouldn’t allow him to use the memory-sorting as an excuse twice, so he shook his head minutely. “Like I was saying, there’s no trace left of Bakura’s men. While it’s possible they left for a greener pasture elsewhere, with easily four or five dozen men, it’s impossible to hide their tracks that well.”

“And there is no way to confirm if Bakura was ever with them.” Atem laid down the papyrus scroll containing the latest report on his desk, lips pressed in a flat line. “Mahaad and Isis report they haven’t found much regarding the Gate to the Underworld. If we are still here by the time Bakura shows up with Diabound...”

The worried frown made Atem’s face look older, more wearied in a way he’d never seen as Kaiba Seto. But Seth remembered seeing it since a year ago, when Atem first took over the state duties after his father, King Akhnamkanen, became too ill to stir from his bed. No, it wasn’t a year ago for him, was it? No matter what Seth’s hidden feelings for Atem might have been, it had nothing to do with _him_. Unlike Seth, Seto had a lifetime’s worth of practice putting aside needless emotions. Seto didn’t allow himself to be distracted by attraction, or worse, pity.

...But maybe Seth, stupid, weak, and sentimental as he was, might not have forgotten to feel for his own brother. Even more than saving their souls from Pegasus, Seto privately admitted that his greatest debt to Yuugi – no, _Atem_ – was that he made Seto remember why he became strong in the first place: to protect Mokuba. Useless sentiments were one thing, but debts were quite another.

“Even if we are, you have the Three Gods, and you know your name. Unless you’re actually afraid of Bakura.”

Instead of getting annoyed or defiant, Atem’s expression became pained. “Not of Bakura, no. But I don’t want aibou here when that happens. The battle—” Here, Atem paused suddenly, as if just remembering who he was talking to, and something closed in his expression, like a door slamming shut. “It’s not fair for either of you if you remain trapped here in the past.”

Atem’s tone grated on his nerves for some reason, and Seto felt his mouth tighten in a thin line. While he’d always thought Atem’s excessive regard for his friends ridiculous at the best of times, the self-sacrificing martyr routine was infinitely worse. How stupid could he get? And to think he, Kaiba Seto, lost to this _fool_.

“As if I would be so incompetent. Why don’t you spare your worry for yourself instead? That way, you might get something done for a change.”

Anger flashed in Atem’s eyes, and he snarled. “And what have _you_ done that’s so much more effective? Besides sniping at me—” 

“I don’t spend all my time wallowing in self-pity, for one,” Seto cut in briskly. “It’s sickening to see you do it instead of focusing on something constructive.”

“I do not – what the hell do you mean, self-pity?” Surprise, this time, more than simple anger, and Seto felt his teeth grind in frustration.

“All you’ve been doing is worrying about Yuugi. Never mind he’d be just fine without you, he’s got more spine than you do. But we’ve all been through this bullshit before. Why the hell does it never occur to you to fight your way out of this mess?” Atem opened his mouth, but Seto wasn’t done, and cut him off. “Deny it if you can: you plan to go through with exact same thing and seal yourself with Zorc if it comes to that. Did you ever notice how _stupid_ that plan is? Especially when you know that plan will fail in the future?”

For a long moment, Atem stared at him, mouth slightly open in surprise, expression incredulous. Finally, Atem shook his head, his face halfway between a frown and a disbelieving smile. “Did you just yell at me not to sacrifice myself for a lost cause?”

Seto snapped his mouth shut. The worst part was, he couldn’t deny it. Atem’s way of handling the whole Zorc situation frustrated him to hell, and he had a feeling Seth hadn’t thought much of it either; after all, Seth had anticipated Atem’s seal would fail one day, and had prepared for that eventuality. “The sheer stupidity of your plan astounds me, that’s all. Someone I acknowledge as a rival should know better than to give up without even trying.”

The smile (and it was a smile, not a smirk; Seth knew the difference very well) that graced Atem’s lips was the same one he used to wear whenever he managed to pull a laugh from Seth through some outrageous prank or another. Seto grimaced, feeling another surge of warmth wash through him as Seth’s memories resurfaced, conjuring up the images circling through his mind, of a child-prince who loved nothing more than getting a smile from Seth and Mahaad. As precocious and obnoxious as the child-Atem was, there had always been something of innocence left in him even when he grew older, that let him still believe in justice and good triumphing over evil. Seto was sure whatever innocence had once been there was surely burned out of Atem after the three thousand years he spent in the Puzzle. But during the whole time he’d known Atem simply as the Other Yuugi, how much of that stubborn belief in friendship could Seto attribute solely to Yuugi? Certainly, the brilliance of innocence and trust in Yuugi’s gaze had turned Seto’s head more than once, but during the duels, when Atem was in control, that didn’t seem to change his tune much. Yuugi – whether Atem or Yuugi – wasn’t _safe_ , exactly, but he’d been the first person Seto had counted on in a long time, and not necessarily based on a solid logical ground.

“If it comes down to it,” Atem said quietly, traces of warmth still lingering in his voice, “I will do my best to defeat Bakura and Zorc. I don’t plan on going down that easily.” With a small sigh, Atem leaned back in his chair, fingers toying with the edge of the papyrus scroll. “We should get aibou up to date.”

“If you can pry him away from the Jounouchi double.” Not that it bothered him; if Yuugi wanted to keep clinging to someone who was clearly not his friend, nor had any desire to be, then that was Yuugi’s business. Alright, maybe it did bother him a little. But then again, Seto had never had much patience for someone who ignored what was literally right before him in favor of an illusion.

“And you said you weren’t jealous.”

Seto opened his mouth, then closed it. “You are _deluded_. Or have you been at the wine storage again?”

Atem actually colored, a little. “I see you remember that episode.” Seto allowed a hint of smirk curl his lips, letting his smug silence answer for him. “That was at least half your fault, you know,” Atem muttered, his cheeks still faintly pink. It was an expression that Seth had rarely seen on Atem, and one that Seto had never seen in person. Seto started, realizing his hand was a hairbreadth away from reaching out against his will. For almost three years, Seth had savagely repressed his attraction toward Atem, buried under pride and duty, guarded by loyalty. Seto had pushed his aside for nearly two years, deeming the feeling inconsequential and thus ignoring it. But right now, his mind laced with Seth’s memories – his thoughts and emotions alike – Seto wasn’t able to react like he or Seth usually would, awkwardly trapped between two mindsets, unable to adhere to either. Not being able to master one’s desires was a weakness, but did he _need_ to repress this one?

Since when did Kaiba Seto hesitate taking what he wanted?

Few measured strides brought him to Atem’s chair. Seto leaned down, crowding him deliberately, daring him to pull away or to push back.

“Kaiba?” Atem didn’t sound alarmed or suspicious, just curious.

“ _Seth_ might be content to watch you from afar, or something equally idiotic. But I’m not.”

Atem’s lips parted soundlessly, but there was no resistance when Seto tipped his head back far enough to kiss him. For the briefest moment Atem hesitated, lips still parted and his breath warm against Seto’s own lips, but before Seto could pull back, Atem closed the last of the distance to press their lips together. The contact shot an electric shock through him, and Seto nearly groaned, pulling Atem out of the chair to deepen the kiss. Strong hands clasped his arms, holding onto him and – Seto half-laughed, half-growled – pulling him closer, accompanied by an impatient nip on Seto’s lip, then another passionate kiss. Breathlessly, Seto covered that luscious mouth with his again, devouring him, being devoured, feeling the wiry body arch against him, so hot through the thin layers of linen between them.

Seto’s fingers tangled in Atem’s hair, surprisingly gentle, while his other hand slid down to press at the small of Atem’s back, making Atem purr. Teeth nibbled at his lower lip, and Seto shivered despite himself, feeling a confident hand press on his clothed chest in a slow caress, wanting the layers of clothing between them gone. Atem’s body was all sinew and strength under the soft skin, and the feeling of barely contained power in that compact frame was enough to make Seto groan. A low moan escaped Atem when Seto’s hand slid down lower to cup the back of one thigh. That put Atem at just right height to reach Seto’s throat unhindered, Seto realized belatedly, feeling sharp teeth and clever tongue stroke fire in his gut. Atem was all but straddling Seto’s lap standing up, and it was difficult to pump up enough blood to his brain to figure out where they could do this more comfortably.

“Pharaoh, Priest Mahaad requests an audience,” came a call through the door. To Seto’s amusement, it was Atem who growled, annoyed and determined to ignore the call. “Pharaoh?” called the attendant, clearly growing concerned, and Seto bit back a snarl of frustration as Atem let out an exasperated sigh, disengaging himself from Seto’s grasp.

“This better be good,” Atem muttered, running a hand through his hair, which was more mussed than usual. “Can you bring aibou here? We need to talk to him as well.”

Seto shrugged, tugging at his less-than-immaculate robe. His lips were still tingling and his body still on fire, but his arousal was thankfully fading. He had no desire to walk around the palace in his current state and be gawked at. “I’ll meet you here.”

“Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Earthquakes are not common in Egypt, though they do occur. Hondo and Bakura likely wouldn’t have seen one during their lifetime, hence their shock at the spell that could cause an earthquake.
> 
> In the manga, Akhenaden took three others to help him with the ritual, which supposedly took one week to complete. Coincidentally, that was how long they had before their enemies, presumably after the Millennium Grimoire, would reach the royal city, hence the king giving his permission without even asking for details. In the anime, there were originally seven mages who went to create the items, but all died on the way back except for Akhenaden. I went with the manga version of the events for my story.
> 
> The priestess at Djehuty’s temple...well, I leave her identity to the reader’s imagination. ^_^


	10. III. RE:Set - Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year('s Eve)!!!
> 
> Today (12/31/2013) is also the third year anniversary of completing **RE:Play**. I wrote bulk of chapter twelve that day, and was so happy because I knew I'd _gotten it right_. One more part -- three chapters -- left to go, and then it will be the epilogue. I hope to finish another fic today as well, so I'll be rushing through this post. Hopefully I won't have missed major mistakes...whoops. XD

  
**RE:Play** by _Shiraume_  


[Written: 5/29/2009 - 12/31/2010]

**III. RE:Set**

_Chapter Nine_

“Not that I care, but doesn’t the pharaoh mind that you keep coming down here?”

Yuugi regarded him with a neutral look. “Am I in the way?”

“No, no.” Djehuty’s reed brush never stopped moving on the papyrus scroll. “It’s just that...well, this is hardly a fitting place for an envoy of the gods. And even if you tell me I look just like your friend—”

Yuugi already knew what Djehuty would say next, and held back a sigh.

“—I’m not actually him. And nobles are pretty uppity about mingling with the wrong class, so maybe you should...I dunno, stop hanging around me?”

“Is it a bother? That I want to be your friend?”

“I just don’t get you is all.” Djehuty finally looked up, dark brown eyes honest and inquisitive, but no longer suspicious. “If the rumors hadn’t been all over the palace, I’d never have pegged you as the pharaoh’s favorite companion. Even if you look just like him.”

“You don’t like him.” It wasn’t a question. For some reason, Djehuty harbored a resentment bordering on hatred towards all of the nobles of the court. And at the moment, he reminded Yuugi even more of Jounouchi, especially with that same closed-off expression that Jounouchi had worn when his old gang mate, Hirutani, showed up to threaten him.

“Nothing personal. I just don’t have much faith in him or the nobles around him. It’s not like kings actually have time for us commoners.”

“Djehuty—”

“Look. It’s just. Bad things happen. Mostly to us commoners. Maybe the pharaoh does care, like you say, but it doesn’t change the fact he can’t do anything to stop them from happening. So it’s better not to expect miracles.”

There was that bitterness again. Yuugi bit his lip, troubled. Jounouchi hadn’t been very forthcoming about his personal life at first either, and maybe it was a bad idea to ask. But...if he wanted to befriend _Djehuty_ , not as a replacement for Jounouchi but for Djehuty himself, perhaps he should stop assuming his new friend would think and act exactly like Jounouchi. That way, he wouldn’t repeat the mistake he made with Anenut, expecting her to act like Anzu and ending up disappointed when she didn’t. Yuugi acknowledged to himself he’d lost his chance to become her friend because he hadn’t seen Anenut for herself, but only as a reflection of Anzu.

“Would you tell me, if I asked?” Yuugi asked gently. The reed brush stopped in its track. Djehuty’s eyes slid up to hold Yuugi’s for a long moment, then he dropped his gaze and cursed softly, putting away the brush before the ink stain became worse. After looking over the scroll one more time, Djehuty set it down next to him, laying it out to dry.

“When I was young,” Djehuty started, not quite meeting Yuugi’s eyes, “I used to live in Taminhor, in a temple dedicated to Djehuty. With my sister.” Yuugi nodded, wordlessly encouraging him to continue. “There were...problems with a local noble lord and a rival lord. Back then, because of the wars, most of the nomes were pretty much cut off from the royal city. In the provinces, the pharaoh was the king in name only. I don’t think that’s changed much now.”

Atem had explained to him as much: the incessant wars during the time of King Akhnamkanen, Atem’s father, had splintered the kingdom to pieces. Even after the invaders were driven out with the power of Millennium Items, the kingdom remained largely disjointed. In practice, especially in Lower Egypt, far from the royal capital, each nome was governed by their respective noble lords. While the provincial lords never actively sought to take over the whole kingdom, faction fights for control of the provinces were fierce.

“The temple we were at was caught in the middle of that, and... Well. One of the factions burned it down after slaughtering the priests for supporting their rival. King Akhnamkanen didn’t do anything to stop the fights, or -- or the aftermath. And he was supposed to have the power of the gods. I stopped expecting things from the king and the nobles ever since.”

Yuugi nibbled his lower lip absently. A sister. Just like Jounouchi. Likely Djehuty wouldn’t have left Egypt and wandered abroad for six years if the aforementioned sister had survived. The glimpse at the raw pain in that fraction of second when Djehuty mentioned her was enough to convince him that. Failure to save his sister, no matter whose fault it had been, was one Djehuty would never forgive.

“Atem is...” Yuugi hesitated. “Atem is not his father. He will change things if...if you believed in him.”

Djehuty was silent for a long moment, simply looking at Yuugi. “You have a lot of faith in him, don’t you, Yuugi?” he asked finally, more thoughtful than skeptical. Another pause, this one shorter, then: “It _has_ been six years. I guess I could stick around a while and see.”

Yuugi beamed, feeling like he’d just won a major duel. He knew today was Djehuty’s last day on his temporary job as a record keeper for the royal storage, and that Djehuty had originally planned to travel further south. If Djehuty stayed, he would have a chance to really get to know him, and maybe even help Djehuty and Atem become friends as well. Djehuty wasn’t Jounouchi, but he _was_ the first friend Yuugi made on his own here, and maybe, unlike with Anenut, he could even do something for Djehuty.

“If you’re done mingling with mediocrity for the day, the pharaoh would like you back,” drawled a familiar voice disdainfully. Yuugi winced; in the past of in the future, there was no love lost between Djehuty and Seto, and during the last few days Yuugi spent with Djehuty, Seto had occasionally run across them and taken great pleasure at irritating Djehuty. “And I’m sure the store master is waiting for that sorry excuse for a report.”

“If you’re so sure you can do better, YOU do it,” Djehuty snapped, bristling like a wet cat.

“If you’re trying to pass that for hieratic, I’ve seen ten-year-old apprentice priests write better. With their toes. I’m sure they’ll be happy to give you lessons.”

Although Djehuty was too busy snarling at Seto to notice, Yuugi was beginning to discern when Seto really was on the offensive, and when he was just being his usual antagonizing self. And unless he was completely off his mark, the cool gleam in Seto’s eyes was actually amusement, not malice. Not that Djehuty would have appreciated the difference. Before Djehuty could tell Seto to shove his priestly excellence somewhere unpleasant, Yuugi stepped between them, sending a pleading look to Djehuty.

“I’m ready. Will I see you later, Djehuty?”

Djehuty scowled at Seto one last time, but turned his eyes away to answer him. “Probably. I’m going to go check out the town, but I’ll be back after.”

“I’ll see you later then!” Yuugi exclaimed brightly, grabbing Seto by the wrist and tugging him away before the pair could exchange another round. Relieved by his success at averting yet another argument, it didn’t occur to Yuugi until they were halfway across the palace that something was odd. Two things, actually. One, he was still holding onto Seto, and two, Seto wasn’t shrugging him off.

A sideways glance at Seto didn’t tell him much, but it was enough to make him recall his conversation with Atem a few days ago, when Atem basically told him Seto wouldn’t reject him if Yuugi confessed his attraction. For as long as Yuugi had known him, Seto had always had an air of command about him, magnetic yet aloof. Even when he was sitting quietly in the classroom, Seto’s presence couldn’t be ignored, like that of a magnificent lion among sheep. But much like a lion among sheep, Seto’s presence was a forbidding one, inviting awed glances but never physical closeness. That he allowed Yuugi to touch him was probably significant, but.... There was at least one person in Seto’s world who could always be sure of his welcome.

“...Do I ever remind you of Mokuba-kun?” Yuugi hazarded, careful to keep his tone light and nonthreatening. Seto, however, looked confused.

“Mokuba?” Seto’s usually wary expression softened to a thoughtful look only Mokuba ever seemed to provoke. “I suppose you two share some traits. Height, for one.” Seto’s tone sounded almost like teasing, and for some reason Yuugi found his ears warm. “But no, you don’t.”

Yuugi nodded. Seto’s admissions only confirmed Atem’s oddly firm belief that Seto regarded Yuugi very differently than he did the rest of the world. But apparently it didn’t have anything to do with Seto’s legendary devotion to his younger brother. And he knew Seto wasn’t seeing him merely as Atem’s shadow, either. Here, Atem was very much present right before Seto’s eyes, but the way Seto related to him, with fierce rivalry bordering on hunger, was vastly different from the way he treated Yuugi – which, on anyone else, might have been called _gentle_. Was Seto even aware of it himself?

“What did Atem want to talk about?” he asked instead, dropping the topic for now. Yuugi did not remove his hand from Seto’s wrist, falling in step next to him.

“Bakura’s men disappeared. We managed to tail them to a tavern on the western bank of the river, but when our men raided the tavern this morning, all they found was signs of a violent brawl. But aside from half a dozen bodies found at the scene, there is no trace left of the rest.”

And Bakura was not among the bodies found, no doubt. “Maybe they had warning?”

“Maybe. They certainly left in a hurry. We recovered a good portion of their loot there.”

“What about Kur-Elna?” Even if the village seemed completely deserted when he and Atem visited the last time, there was always a chance Bakura went back to use it as a hideout after.

Seto shook his head. “Atem doesn’t want our men there. Said if Bakura’s men were stupid enough to go there, we won’t need to chase them.”

Remembering the chilling, malignant presence that permeated the abandoned village, Yuugi shivered. The sleepless evil that lingered in the village was not one that would recognize a friend from a foe. If the thieves really did head over to Kur-Elna, Yuugi doubted anything would ever be recovered. “That place will eat them,” Yuugi murmured, suddenly feeling cold even in the heat of the afternoon.

Seto studied him. “Atem mentioned vengeful souls.”

“It’s the whole place.” Yuugi had to remind himself to relax his hand around Seto’s wrist. His free arm was wrapped around himself, fingers tight on his bicep. Seto’s leisurely pace slowed to a halt, and Yuugi looked up at him, puzzled.

Seto’s eyes were intent, the hauntingly familiar blue gaze Yuugi remembered from the duels. “Even if the Gate to the Underworld doesn’t exist yet, the Stone of King’s Memory may be a key.”

“Bakura might be there,” Yuugi protested, beginning to realize what Seto was trying to say. “And the Stone is also the key to releasing Zorc. If all seven Items are there...”

“All seven don’t need to be there. But it’s through that Stone you and Atem invoked the Battle Ceremony. If we want to go back, we will have to take that chance.”

Right. They were trying to go back. It was like having cold water run down his back. Between befriending Djehuty and everything else, he kept forgetting their stay in the past was supposed to be a temporary one. Or maybe he just didn’t want to remember. “What about... What does Atem say?”

“He doesn’t want to go there, obviously. But waiting around until Bakura shows up at the palace is a stupid idea. Especially if Atem can’t think of anything better than going through the past events a second time.”

Yuugi’s mouth dropped open. “He what?” Actually, if nothing else works, it made sense Atem might consider simply repeating history. But still! “What if he just defeated Zorc here?”

“If he could manage that, then history would change.” Seto’s eyes, direct and implacable, nonetheless held no hint of challenge or cruelty. “Which means you and he will never meet in the future.”

The same thought had haunted Yuugi since finding himself in the past. If he never completed the Puzzle, if he never met Atem, then he would never have befriended Jounouchi, Honda, or Bakura. Or Seto, for that matter; he would never have gone through the Death-T, the Duelist Kingdom, or Battle City Tournament, and everything in his life that he came to love would be lost. And the idea terrified him. As much as he feared having to say goodbye to Atem once more, to have a future where he would never have known Atem at all was even worse. But...knowingly putting Atem through 3,000 years of imprisonment in the shattered Puzzle?

“...I don’t like the thought of Atem being locked in the Puzzle for 3,000 years,” Yuugi whispered, voice tight. The understanding in the blue eyes was even more startling than the warm hand that came to a rest on his shoulder, and Yuugi stared at Seto, transfixed.

“I know that.” Seto’s voice, always firm and relentless even when being kind, was almost gentle now, the way it only became when Seto was talking to Mokuba. There was, of course, the possibility they would never return to their own time regardless of how the past events unfolded. Yuugi averted his gaze from Seto’s penetrating eyes, troubled. That wasn’t a possibility Seto would ever accept, not with his heart so firmly anchored in the future with Mokuba.

“Come,” Seto said resolutely, but not unkindly, steering him toward Atem’s chamber. The warmth of Seto’s hand on his shoulder was comforting, and Yuugi did not object to the firmness of the grip. When they entered the pharaoh’s chamber, Atem was alone, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow.

“Mahaad just left,” he said without preamble as soon as Seto and Yuugi closed the door behind them. Judging from the tense expression, Yuugi guessed whatever the priest-mage had to report was not good. Settling down on a chair next to Atem, Yuugi gave him an expectant look, pushing away the stirring of disappointment that Seto chose a seat across from them. “He tells me the Millennium Grimoire, from which the Millennium Items were made, is missing.”

“What?” Seto and Yuugi chorused. Atem did not seem amused even by that.

“According to Siamun, there was a book of powerful magic passed down in the royal family for generations, called the Millennium Grimoire. Its text is full of riddles and no one was able to decipher the meaning. But fifteen years ago, Priest Akhenaden managed it. There was an invading force a scarce week’s march from the royal city, so the king – my father – gave him permission to perform the ritual prescribed in the Grimoire to create the seven Items. That was how the Millennium Items were created. Mahaad thought the book might have something useful and tried to locate the book, but he was unsuccessful.”

Definitely not good. If the book contained instructions on how to create the Items, it might also have given them other valuable clues. Such as how the Items could be used to open the Gate to the Underworld.

“Does Lord Akhenaden have anything to say?” Seto and Atem’s eyes met, their gaze as powerful as spoken words: if Akhenaden had been the last one to use the book, he might very well have concealed it afterward.

“Mahaad asked him, of course. Apparently, Akhenaden had the book secretly moved to the temple of Ptah in Ineb Hedj, for safekeeping. It was, unfortunately, hidden in the archive that burned down.”

Well, shit. “I’m guessing that was the only copy?” Yuugi was unsurprised to receive a grim nod. “And Priest Akhenaden doesn’t remember any details,” he added, a touch of irony in his resigned tone.

Atem shot him a wry look. “Naturally.”

“Well?” Seto, always ready to take action, was all business. “Is it worthwhile to search the Temple of the Stone Tablets?”

“I doubt it.” At Seto’s skeptical look, Atem added, with a hint of exasperation, “He wouldn’t want anyone to see the book after keeping it a secret this long. If he has it in his possession, I don’t think we’d find it without his cooperation.”

Seto gave him a curt nod. “No report of trouble near the royal tombs. Any word on Bakura?”

“Also none,” Atem replied.

“I’ll make another round at the royal tombs tomorrow, then.”

Atem nodded. “I’ll take another look at the archives. There are some records my father left behind that might help.” Yuugi had another moment of déjà vu, noting how quickly and easily the two read each other’s intent, like they’d worked together all their life. “How is it going with Djehuty, aibou?”

Yuugi started. Compared to what Seto and Atem had been doing, his progress with Djehuty seemed hardly worth mentioning. Despite his brave talk he hadn’t been doing anything, had he? Both Seto and Atem had been working so hard to find a way, and here he was, too busy spending time with his new friend to even think about contributing.

“Okay,” Yuugi said noncommittally, swallowing the surge of guilt. “Anything I can help you with?”

“You can’t read hieroglyphs or hieratic,” Seto pointed out, reasonable. Although he knew Seto’s words held no insult or censure, Yuugi couldn’t help feeling stung.

“I can still accompany you to the tomb,” Yuugi protested. “I can fight if Thief King Bakura shows up.”

“No,” Seto said shortly, then visibly reconsidered. “I thought you would want to spend more time together. Or with that pathetic excuse for a scribe.”

Together with _Atem_ , Yuugi realized after a heartbeat. Yuugi looked back and forth at the two, suddenly struck by a noticeable reduction of tension between them. Well, the antagonistic kind; when Seto and Atem traded glances now, it was more charged than ever, but not with hostility. “Shouldn’t I be asking you the same?” slipped out before he could stop himself, and for a brief moment, there was a silence.

“Why would I want to spend time with that idiotic—”

Atem choked back a sound, and Yuugi was rather charmed to see a rare blush staining his cheeks. A second later, Seto also caught on, and he turned an incredulous glare on Yuugi, one that would have worked so much better if there weren’t embarrassment lurking under his defensive posture.

“Don’t put me on the same level as you,” Seto shot back after a short pause. Yuugi just grinned at him, recognizing it as an evasion, but not an outright denial.

“Aibou,” Atem admonished, but could not quite manage to meet Yuugi’s gaze, which dared him to contradict Yuugi’s point. 

“Or, we could all hit the archives right now, and then tomorrow, go to the tombs together,” Yuugi suggested, nothing but guileless sweet innocence in his bright tone. Atem and Seto’s eyes met briefly, and the two looked away at the same time, the former with wry resignation, and the latter with carefully schooled indifference.

Atem cleared his throat. “I’ve been taking notes in Japanese. If you want to look over them, aibou.”

From his expression of grudging approval, Yuugi guessed Seto must have been doing the same. It was a good way to keep their research a secret from others, he supposed. Yuugi flashed him a warm smile, and Seto relented. “I have a compilation you might as well see.”

Researching ancient texts all night was hardly the paradigm of a romantic date. However, neither Atem nor Seto had objected, so that was a victory in itself. And this time, when Yuugi subtly hemmed in Seto between himself and Atem, Seto didn’t attempt to move away. Atem’s obvious distraction in the face of their physical closeness was almost as gratifying as Seto’s acquiescence when Yuugi leaned on him with the pretext of reaching for a scroll. And despite the mountain of documents to go over, Yuugi couldn’t help feeling ridiculously happy.

_I win_ , Yuugi thought smugly to himself.

~*~*~*~

“You know, I never thought I’d see you here,” Hondo said, not even slurring, much to Djehuty’s annoyance. Honestly, for a guy who just downed an entire jug of beer, Hondo was far too coherent. “Weren’t you planning to head south?”

“I needed the money. The palace was hiring a temporary scribe for the royal storages.” Djehuty paused to take another long swig of his beer. “I was going to move on, but...”

“There’s trouble coming.” Hondo stared at his goblet, strangely serious. “You shouldn’t stay here.”

“Are you talking about the thieves raiding the city? I know about them, but—”

A harsh laugh interrupted him. “Trust me, _they_ are not a problem anymore. We’ve got a much bigger problem headed this way, and a fiery pit in Duat will be safer than here when it arrives.”

“I promised the little guy I’d stick around,” Djehuty said quietly. It didn’t feel right, to just take off and leave Yuugi behind to face this trouble, especially if it was going to be as bad as Hondo said.

Hondo raised an eyebrow at him. “And you’ve known him for how long?”

“A few days,” Djehuty admitted with a little wince. The boy was the pharaoh’s favorite, and likely would remain safer than a cobra’s egg in its nest. Besides, he could hardly call someone he’d known for less than a week a _friend_ , could he? An envoy of the gods and the pharaoh’s beloved companion, at that.

“It’s your choice. But I’m catching the first ship out of here in the morning.” Hondo’s sideway glance was meaningful, but also laced with hints of true concern. “I wouldn’t mind some company on the way,” he said, and Djehuty knew it was as much of an offer as he would get from Hondo.

What was here for him, anyway? Sure, he’d said to Yuugi he might stay longer, but it wasn’t as if he was set for a permanent settlement in the royal city. His job had been finished earlier today, and the payment he received was enough to pay his way to the south, but not enough to last him more than a few weeks if he stayed. Nothing here but memories he couldn’t keep away, the royal city leagues away from his old hometown but not nearly far enough to let him forget. Yuugi would be disappointed, no doubt, Djehuty thought with chagrin. Still, despite Yuugi’s offer of friendship, he’d never been comfortable that someone of such high social standing should take a vested interest in him. Even if Yuugi was sincere in his desire to be friends, hell, even if _he_ liked Yuugi and wanted the same, how long could it possibly last?

“I guess the little guy won’t miss me _that_ much.” Djehuty tossed down the rest of his beer. In the end, he _had_ packed and brought all his belonging with him when he dropped by the tavern tonight. He hadn’t anticipated he would run into Hondo here, but perhaps he’d already been ready to leave, and just needed a reason to go ahead. Meeting Hondo was like a sign.

Hondo smiled amiably, downing the rest of his goblet and setting it down. The two of them drank the night away, and eventually fell asleep in one of the rooms upstairs Hondo rented for the night. The next morning, just after dawn, the two boarded a ship bound for the southern city of Abu, which set sail just as the first rays of the sun turned the royal city red-golden. As the ship glided past the port, the sails swollen with the ever-present southward wind, Djehuty stood on the side of the ship, feeling unexpectedly guilty.

“I wonder if I should at least have said goodbye,” he said, forgetting for a moment Hondo was next to him.

“You liked him that much?” Hondo didn’t sound surprised, just mildly curious. “I thought you didn’t care much for nobles. He must have been really something.”

Djehuty shook his head, eyes still fixed on the royal city, steadily growing smaller as the ship picked up speed. “It’s just...you ever have the feeling you left behind something that could have been so much more?”

Hondo’s mouth quirked wryly. “Oh yeah.” The mercenary’s eyes were fixed at a distant point in the sky, where the last of the rose and lavender of dawn was fading away. Something about his expression told Djehuty whatever Hondo was remembering, it wasn’t anything trivial. That Hondo really did know what he meant. “Once or twice.”

Djehuty didn’t smile back. “Because I think I just did.”

There was nothing to say to that. Slowly, Hondo put a tentative hand on Djehuty’s shoulder, at once brotherly and comforting. Djehuty did not acknowledge the touch, but did not shrug it off either. The two of them remained rooted to their spot, watching, until the royal city disappeared from the view.

**END OF PART III**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not that place names are that important, but...
> 
> Taminhor was the capital of the Nome III Ament (imnty, “Occident”) in Lower Egypt until 4th century BC, and had a cult center dedicated to Djehuty.
> 
> Abu, or Yebu, was the capital of Nome I Ta-Seti (tA-sty, “Bow”), now called Elephantine Island. I chose this because it used to be located at the border between Egypt and Nubia.


	11. IV. RE:Call - Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today, January 15, 2014, is last full moon of the lunar calendar year. 31st will be the first day of lunar new year. An interesting coincidence, I thought. :) Here’s chapter 10. Two more to go, and then it’s the epilogue.

  
**RE:Play** by _Shiraume_  


[Written: 5/29/2009 - 12/31/2010]

**IV. RE:Call**

_Chapter Ten_

“I didn’t think there was any point, but my mother was insistent that I come and pay my respects at the court before I leave. Still, I’m a bit surprised, Lord Yuugi—”

“Just Yuugi. Please.”

“—Yuugi. I haven’t exactly been nice to you. Why are you so concerned with me?” Anenut’s voice was listless but honest. But her eyes, devoid of vitality and energy, were those of a stranger, and Yuugi found he couldn’t hold them for long. Seto had told him about the talk of marriage between Anenut and the courtier Paramesse. But to be suddenly told she was leaving tomorrow to marry him... And Paramesse, who accompanied his prospective bride to the royal court, was so much older than Anenut. (If Yuugi had been in a more cheerful frame of mind, he might have wondered if the shoulder-length white hair he’d glimpsed at from distance was because of dye, a wig, or Paramesse simply having gone gray.)

“I wanted...I would like to have been your friend,” Yuugi said softly. Anzu, always so irrepressible, rarely looked this weary. But on the rare occasions Yuugi caught her exhausted, she’d had the same downturn of the tightly-pressed mouth that said she was hanging on by a thread. But unlike with Anzu, he couldn’t reach out and give Anenut a hug. There was a saying Anzu was fond of, in English, about being a day late and a dollar short. Well, more like years late and a grand short in his case, but he couldn’t bear to let her leave like this. Not after Djehuty, who, despite what he’d said to Yuugi, had left without even a goodbye.

Anenut’s lips curved in a small smile, but it died away quickly. “I’m growing older, and my parents are worried I may never find a husband. It’s a good match, and Lord Paramesse is kind to me.” A bitter laugh escaped her. “Did you know, when I was little, my dream was to be a dancer? My mother was horrified when she found out. Respectable girls don’t dance, and certainly not someone of royal blood,” Anenut quoted sarcastically. “A lot of good it did for me.”

“An...” That, Yuugi remembered belatedly, was how Otogi – Ottah, he corrected himself – called Anenut. She flinched minutely, turning away from him, her eyes hidden behind the fall of her luxurious braids.

“I was engaged to my childhood friend, three years ago. He...broke it off a week before our wedding, did you know that? Mother finally confessed she forced Ottah to cancel our engagement. She always wanted to marry me to someone more influential. She hated being married to my father, who couldn’t offer her status or wealth.” Anenut wrapped her arms around herself, the line of her shoulders disturbingly fragile. “I’d liked him. I think I might have been happy with him. I spent years hating him for deserting me. And it turns out...” Anenut shook her head, let out a shaky sigh. “No use thinking about that, I guess. It’s just—I’m just so _tired_ , Yuugi. I’ve had enough disappointments in my life, and I – I know you mean well. But I really can’t take one more.”

Yuugi sucked in a breath, feeling as if she’d slapped him. Anzu had been one friend who believed in him even when Yuugi himself didn’t. But Anenut wasn’t Anzu, and just like Djehuty, she had her own life to live. No matter how much he cared, he couldn’t decide her life for her. If Anenut accepted her marriage to Paramesse, then there was nothing Yuugi could do except wish her the best. At least with her, he had a chance to do that, unlike with Djehuty.

“I...guess I should wish you the best, then,” Yuugi said slowly. He couldn’t make his tone lighter, more optimistic, not even to make her feel better, but he _could_ offer his honest wishes for her happiness. “I will always pray you will be happy, Anenut. I’m sorry we didn’t have time to get to know each other better.”

The smile that softened Anenut’s face was the first genuine one he’d seen from her, making her look hauntingly familiar. “Thank you, Yuugi.” She let out an embarrassed laugh. “And I’m sorry I made things so difficult for you. I really wasn’t very nice to you.”

“Just be happy,” Yuugi told her, giving into his impulse to give her a warm hug. “Then we’re even.”

“Okay.” She sounded like she was trying not to cry, hugging him back. So much regret between them, of what-could-have-been and what-if, but if nothing else, they could at least part as friends. Still caught up in the moment, it took Yuugi a second to realize the jolt he felt was not a figment of his imagination. It wasn’t a physical sensation, either; more like a ghost of tingling along his back, the touch of it so very familiar—

An explosion rocked the entire palace, shaking dust from the old columns and ceilings.

“What was that?” Anenut asked in a frightened, hushed tone.

Magic. Powerful, hostile magic. Yuugi shuddered, realizing where he’d last felt the touch of this particular magic before. Anenut’s arms were warm and tight around him, and for a moment, Yuugi closed his eyes, clinging to her warmth for just one heartbeat longer.

“You need to go home,” Yuugi said, pulling away, nearly reaching for the deck of cards in his belt pouch out of habit. The deck’s magic called to him like a softly beating pulse, and its weight was comforting on his hip. “It’s going to get dangerous. Go home with Paramesse. You said you will be leaving for Djanet tomorrow, right?” Anenut nodded, her eyes wide and alarmed. Even to those without magic, the sudden chill in the air was no less palpable than the evening suddenly darkening to a midnight. “Stay away from the royal city for a while, okay?” Speechless, Anenut just nodded again, but her eyes were now concerned.

“What about you?” she asked, shivering in the cold air radiating from the main hall of the palace. Yuugi smiled at her, trying to sound more confident than he really felt.

“Don’t worry about me. You just be safe, okay?”

“Okay,” Anenut echoed, then flung her arms around him in a fierce, short hug. “Be safe, Yuugi.” With that, Anenut trotted away, toward the courtyard where her husband-to-be waited for her. Left behind, Yuugi tried to calm his breathing, guessing what must be happening in the main hall at that very moment.

They had talked about this. Had feared this. Had tried to figure out a way before it came to this. And it seemed they had run out of time.

Pulling his deck free from its pouch, Yuugi drew comfort and strength from the warmth of his deck, feeling their magic resonate with him deep inside. Without another backward glance, Yuugi ran down the hallway, towards the main hall and the dark, seething magic of Diabound permeating the air.

~*~*~*~

“You put her in the dungeon?”

Seto’s tone wasn’t any harsher than usual, but Shaada seemed taken aback. “For her own safety. The mob would have torn her to pieces.”

After the havoc wreaked by Thief King Bakura last night, it was little surprise the whole city was on the edge. Rumors were spreading faster than the rays of the sun, and Atem had sent out Shaada in the morning to check on the people while he held emergency meeting with the rest of the priests. And during his patrol through the city, Shaada chanced upon a group of townspeople about to lynch an unfortunate foreigner whose only crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and took custody of her. It was pure coincidence that Seto was the first person Shaada ran into on his way back. And Seto would have thought nothing of the incident, except the only person who could have matched Shaada’s description – snow-white hair and sapphire-blue eyes – was the woman who harbored his Blue-Eyes White Dragon in her soul. Seth’s memory of a blue-eyed girl in the hands of ruthless bandits rang in his mind like an odd echo to his own memory of a white-haired woman stepping in front of Priest Seth, with an unmistakable sensation of windswept power and lethal grace piercing through both. Whatever fate held in store for the woman, he couldn’t just leave her in the dungeon with common criminals.

Seto spun on his heel, walking briskly toward the dungeons, ignoring the startled look from Shaada. Now that Bakura and Diabound had appeared, the events would soon spiral to their inevitable conclusion. They had to get out of here _now_. And when they did, the past would play itself out as it should, but the events to come would no longer be their responsibility. Even if Atem didn’t believe it worth the trouble, he would have to search the Temple of Stone Tablets – Ahkenaden’s sanctuary – for any clues he might find. Whatever it took to return them to the future, where they belonged. And Atem could finally move on to his afterlife.

His hand clenched around the Millennium Rod. Like Yuugi, he too had been lulled into thinking their time was limitless. Getting involved with Atem was a mistake, and he really should have known better than to give into temptation, should never have started something he had no hope of finishing. Seto quickened his pace, swept down to the end of the long corridor, and barked out an order, sending the soldiers scrambling to their feet.

“The woman Priest Shaada brought – where is she?”

“Sir?”

“Priest Shaada put a foreign woman here a little while ago,” he said flatly, and the brave soldier who answered him looked distinctly uneasy. “I want her moved. Lead me to her cell.”

“She’s...she was in one of the isolated cells, but Lord Akhenaden took her away, Lord Seth. He had all the prisoners in that block moved about an hour ago.”

Why would Akhenaden move the prisoners? Especially those in the isolation block, which was reserved for condemned criminals of serious charges who required solitary cells. Moreover, the kindly sage Seth remembered disliked even seeing the dungeons, which were often in atrocious conditions. Just as well, Seto decided; he had been meaning to ask Akhenaden about the Millennium Grimoire himself, to see if the old priest would let anything slip when it was Seth asking him. 

“Where did he take them?”

“To the underground level, sir.”

Without another word, Seto spun and headed to the lower levels of the dungeon. Being guided by Seth’s memories was like a second nature now, the intricate layout of the palace and the city as vivid as the Kaiba Corp building blueprints. The tingle of something familiar, which he first disregarded as his imagination, became stronger as he neared the lowermost level. Seto frowned, recognizing the draw of magic somewhere close. A vague apprehension seized his mind as he made his way deeper into the bowels of the dungeon, and he found himself hurrying. When he arrived at the lowest level, it was pure instinct, calling out Dios to intercept a gigantic worm from engulping a frail white figure. Painfully familiar blue eyes turned to look at him in mild surprise, and he knew, without a shred of doubt, she had recognized him.

“Lord Akhenaden,” Seto said levelly, fighting to keep his voice calm. “What is the meaning of this?”

The glinting gold of his Millennium Eye held more life than the cold human eye that turned to regard him. “The girl holds a god within her. We need that power, Seth.”

Seto finally noticed the rest of the scene, with prisoners on wooden boards suspended over a slab of stone shaped like an inverted pyramid. The wooden boards and the slab of stone were all that stood between the prisoners and the bottomless abyss underneath. The sharp metal spikes on the stone promised death to whoever fell off the wooden board, but the spiked boards also discouraged the prisoners from any physical contact with each other. With two casualties already impaled on the spikes, the two left standing were locked in a battle using their Ka alone, one in the shape of a gigantic worm, and the other a three-horned demon. Their Ka, stronger than any other Ka Seth remembered extracting from criminals, hovered over the girl like bloodthirsty vultures, waiting for a chance to finish her off.

“Strong desire to live has strengthened their Ka to grow to this level, Seth,” Akhenaden said with a preternatural calm, and for a moment, Seto simply stared at him, uncomprehending. “Engaging in fight to the death made these men’s Ka grow strong enough to kill the other prisoners. If the girl wishes to live, she will show us the god she holds inside her.” 

Was this really the same Priest Akhenaden from Seth’s memories? The man who’d been the father Seth never had growing up, on whose benevolent guidance Seth would have staked his life? The cold, emotionless Akhenaden now was more like Dark Priest he’d glimpsed at in the Memory World than the kindly mentor Seth remembered. Not three weeks ago, there had been nothing but kindness and warmth in his gaze when Akhenaden looked at him. All he could see now was ruthless determination and cold detachment. The pang of loss – not _his_ , but oh, so close – made him swallow convulsively.

Strong Ka required a strong heart, but the art of summoning and controlling one’s Ka was something that had to be taught and practiced diligently from young age. Strength of will was crucial to call and sustain one’s Ka, but it typically took years to master the necessary skills. The girl was untrained, and if all these prisoners had to rely on was the desire to live, she would never be able to summon hers. When the Monsters charged at her, each vying to deliver the killing blow, all she did was to close her eyes in passive acceptance.

“She doesn’t have any desire to fight.” Calm, Seto told himself, holding the smooth, reasonable façade like a shield. “There are other means we can use.”

The fat one next to Akhenaden, whom Seth’s memories identified as the dungeon master Geberk, cackled. “But none so quick or effective, Lord Seth. Even the most cowardly criminal will fight to survive. The girl, too, I wager.”

Kisara merely watched them, her eyes straying from Akhenaden, the dungeon master, and settling on Seto. The prisoners behind her were becoming restless, too lost in their bloodlust to tolerate Seto’s interruption for long. Kisara’s pale hair seemed to glow in the gloom of the dungeon, reminding him the lustrous scales of the Blue-Eyes. Seto’s lips tightened.

“Enough,” he gritted out, striding over the wooden plank to the girl’s side. Kisara did not resist when he took her by the arm, her depthless eyes fearless and serene. Startled by the strength of her gaze, Seto nearly missed it when one of the prisoners moved.

“Seth!” came the urgent call from Akhenaden. But already the two powerful beasts were attacking in tandem, so eager to tear them apart.

“Dios!” Seto called without hesitation, feeling his own Ka spring to action, slicing away the thick ropes and metal chains like gossamer, sending both the prisoners and their Ka tumbling to the depths. He checked his own grip on the chain, Kisara’s slender body a sudden dead weight in his other arm. “Woman, wake up!”

Something slithered in the corner of his vision, and Seto belatedly realized he’d underestimated his opponents. The worm had all but shrouded Dios with its sticky white threads, and its master, hanging on the threads, was laughing. The warm’s razor-toothed mouth was open, gaping like a tunnel above them, and with his own Ka caught, there was nothing he could do to defend them. The worm roared, raring to charge, and—

A burst of white light encased him, forming the shape of a coiling, scaled body and powerful wings.

“Blue-Eyes,” Seto whispered. The dragon coiled around him, protective and comforting and so very real. The sapphire-blue eyes were trained on the worm, watchful, and Seto couldn’t pay attention to Geberk’s babbling to save his life. He’d called this Monster out countless times, had dedicated more time and attention to creating its holographic image than any other card in existence. But the sheer magnitude of _power_ radiating from the majestic white dragon could never be replicated, not even with all the cutting-edge virtual technology of Kaiba Corp at his disposal. And the Blue-Eyes was so close to him, he could almost feel the shimmering scales against his skin.

Seto didn’t even turn to look at the cowering worm, watching only the white dragon as the crackling lightning of Burst Stream gathered in its mouth, so bright that his eyes hurt. The release of the dragon’s attack obliterated the worm, bursting upward through ceiling, piercing the heaven in a bright shaft of light. As the light faded away, the dragon disappeared, leaving Seto alone with an unconscious Kisara. The soldiers helped them up, but were reluctant to touch Kisara. So Seto stood, easily taking her in his arms.

“If the girl isn’t aware of the white dragon inside her, she won’t be able call it out, but...” The dungeon master’s gleaming eyes on her made Seto bristle, but Geberk wasn’t done. “The dragon appears when she is unconscious. That is to say, when her Ka and Ba become one. The white dragon must be the girl’s soul itself.”

“So the girl is merely a vessel for the white dragon.” Akhenaden this time, the visible eye so cold that Seto couldn’t help a shiver. “Then, if we wish to make Seth the new vessel for the dragon...?”

“All we have to do is severe her soul from her body. That way—”

“That would kill her.” Seto turned away, carrying Kisara away from them. “The pharaoh already holds the power of the Three Gods, Lord Akhenaden. Supporting the pharaoh and protecting the kingdom is our duty. This girl’s power is unnecessary.”

He stepped away, walking up to the ground level without another backward glance. Once he reached the ground level, he handed her over to the guard from before. “Take this girl to a separate room to rest. Make sure she has food and water when she wakes. But do not tell anyone where she is. No one is to see her except me. Is that clear?”

The guard stared at him wide-eyed, but wisely did not question him. “Yes, sir.”

It was only when he was outside and alone that he leaned on a wall, feeling dizzy. From the very first time he saw the legendary dragon card, he’d been drawn to it like a moth to the flame. Even when nothing else made sense in his life, Blue-Eyes had felt _right_. It was the first sense of connection he’d felt since his parents died, and it had become an obsession by the time he met Yuugi. Nothing mattered except possessing it, and as long as he could hold all of them in his hand, he didn’t care how he obtained them. Even now, the magic of the white dragon called to him like a physical ache. And the Blue-Eyes was so very _real_ here...

He had to get out of here. Being in the past was getting to him, making him question himself. Nothing should matter except going back to the future, to Mokuba’s side.

“Lord Seth!”

Seto straightened, the movement a spinal reflex for both him and Seth. “What is it?”

“The pharaoh urgently summons you,” the guard panted, looking as if he’d sprinted all the way. “The pharaoh bids me to tell you that Priest Mahaad hasn’t returned from the royal tombs. And there are reports of trouble there. The pharaoh plans to head there right now.”

Shit. Mahaad had been commanded to relocate King Akhnamkanen’s remains to a secret crypt until a new tomb could be prepared to replace the one Bakura defiled. Such a simple task couldn’t possibly have taken Mahaad all day. And Thief King Bakura was at large with Diabound at hand, waiting like a vulture to seize any Millennium Item he could get his hands on. Seto swore under his breath, striding toward the stable.

“Tell the pharaoh I’m heading to the Great Field directly,” he ordered the guard. “I will meet him there. Go!”

The guard didn’t dare to protest and took off. Cursing Mahaad and wayward priests in general, Seto made his way to the stable.

_You’d better be all right, fool of a mage_ , Seto thought fiercely, pushing away Seth’s warm memories of their shared youth, choosing anger over worry with an ease borne of practice.

With a swift kick to his horse’s flank, he took off toward the river, and the Valley of the Kings beyond.

~*~*~*~

It was hours after sundown that the three of them finally made it back to Atem’s chambers. More than ever, Atem was grateful for Seto’s presence. Even as everyone else stood in shock and dismay upon finding the Black Magician’s – Mahaad’s – stone tablet, Seto had been quick to act, ordering the soldiers to take it back to the Temple of Stone Tablets, reassigning patrol around royal tombs, and strengthening the guards around the city and the palace. Now that he knew what signs to watch for, however, the strain that tightened the corners of Seto’s eyes was obvious. Atem wondered, not for the first time, how much of Seth was affecting Seto. Seto could feign unfeeling calm all he wanted, but Mahaad had been one of the few friends Seth trusted with his life. And from the beginning, it had been obvious that more than just Seth’s memories affected Seto. Yuugi, for his part, looked quite dejected, and Atem reached for his hand, the affectionate gesture as natural as breathing now.

“What now?” Yuugi asked quietly, breaking the long silence.

“We find a way out,” Seto answered immediately. “And get out of here.”

“We can’t just leave them like this. Past or not, this is their _life!_ ” Yuugi’s protest was heartfelt; facing the same loss twice (thrice?) didn’t make it any easier this time around, and the pain of losing Mahaad was just as sharp as the first time Atem felt it. He didn’t want to leave them – his friends and family – to face this by themselves, but strictly speaking, this was – even to him – the past. He wasn’t sure if they could change it even if they wanted to, or if they should even try. After all, his half-hearted attempt to keep Mahaad away from the Thief King hadn’t been remotely successful.

“It’s not our life to live.” Seto’s words didn’t pull any punches, but Atem knew Yuugi heard the unspoken meaning behind his words. _It’s not our place to change their lives._

To be fair the events of the past hardly seemed to need their participation to move forward. So far, foreknowledge had made no appreciable difference here. “According to the guards, Mahaad was ambushed,” Atem said quietly, almost to himself.

Seto shot him a sharp glare. “He had orders not to engage. It was still his choice to stand and fight when he should have gotten out of there.”

Three weeks ago, Seto’s comment would have made him angry and defensive on Mahaad’s behalf. Now, he could almost appreciate the sentiment behind Seto’s harsh words, especially when he could see that what lay underneath wasn’t anger. Atem met his gaze with a short nod, and would have missed the slight lessening of tension if he hadn’t been looking. As much as they would each grieve for Mahaad in the privacy of their hearts, they could not control the choices others made for themselves. Perhaps, Atem acknowledged to himself soberly, he had been arrogant to think his choices were the only ones that could affect the past – and the eventual future. Yuugi’s hand lay limp in his own, and Atem tightened his grip. “We have to go back to the Temple of the Underworld.”

“Bakura has the Ring,” Seto reminded him. “And Diabound is more powerful than ever.”

“And we can hardly let the rest of the Millennium Items near the Stone of King’s Memories,” Yuugi added, finally squeezing Atem’s hand back, then letting go.

“If we wait for Bakura to visit the palace a second time, Akhenaden will awaken as the Dark High Priest, and Zorc will be released shortly after.” Atem’s words were met with a brief silence. “If nothing else, we need to retrieve the Ring, to buy us time. While the Ring is in Bakura’s possession it shields him, and Isis’s Tauk cannot find him.”

Yuugi gave him a wry look. “I don’t know if he knew, but that’s awfully convenient for him.” At Seto’s glance, he clarified, “The Millennium Ring can also track down other Items. Bakura-kun did that when we were lost during the Duelist Kingdom.”

“Convenient,” Seto agreed, the irony lending a drawl to his word. The next moment, his expression darkened, and Seto looked away for the briefest second. “Akhenaden may already be affected. He’s been conducting death matches among the criminals to collect powerful Ka.”

“Death matches?”

Atem lightly touched Yuugi’s wrist to forestall further comments. “Isn’t judging criminals part of his regular duties? Minus the death match part.”

“If Seth’s memory is to be trusted, he’s changed.”

Atem raised an eyebrow at the reply. “And you? What do _you_ think?”

Seto’s glare gained a hint of a scowl, but he answered easily enough. “He’s changed.”

“I’ll suspend the trials. Anything else?”

There was a flicker of hesitation in Seto’s eyes, but it passed before Atem could be sure he’d really seen it. “Keeping him away from Kur-Elna should go without saying. And a sweep in the Temple of Stone Tablets, just in case.”

“Tomorrow, then.” Atem looked to Yuugi, who was looking less dejected and more determined by the second. “It will be dangerous,” he warned, though he knew it would not deter his partner in the slightest. As he expected, Yuugi simply looked at him and did not even bother with a reply.

“He’s less likely to convince Akhenaden than I am,” Seto added with a small quirk of his brow. “Unless you think you can handle Bakura alone.”

Yuugi’s hopeful look was enough for Seto to drop whatever else he might have said. “Or we could... We could wait until you’re done, and go together? What if we find something tomorrow?”

Atem said nothing, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible while Seto and Yuugi regarded each other, the former considering, the latter with a look far more eloquent than any plea. Seto finally shook his head, but did not turn from Yuugi’s honest gaze. “No reason to supply Bakura with an extra Item. If you do find something useful, I trust you two can remember it all the way back to the palace.”

And that was finally enough to make Yuugi smile, brighter than the sun. “You bet.”

Atem hid a smile. It was more trust than he had ever seen Kaiba Seto give anyone, perhaps except Mokuba; Seto would trust them both to handle things on their own with Bakura, _and_ to come back for him. Watching them, it was obvious that Yuugi was special to Seto, no matter what either of them thought. Special in what way, however, he did not know. Atem rather suspected Seto himself didn’t, either. Too bad he wouldn’t be around when they found out.

Violet eyes slid down to his clenched hands, and Atem consciously relaxed them to a loose curl. He wasn’t his old self from 3,000 years ago, who had been too wrapped up in his duties and too defined by his role to truly reach out to anyone. The old Atem had never known the kind of trust, friendship and rivalry shared between equals, like he did with Jounouchi, or even Seto. The old Atem had known his priests would lay down their lives for him, but would never have relied on them the way he now did with his friends, because the old Atem would have thought protecting the kingdom was ultimately his burden. His old self would not have dreamed of sharing it with Yuugi. Or Seto.

It just didn’t feel...fair, that he would learn all he did, only to lose them anyway. A trickle of fear chilled the base of his skull; perhaps that tiny sliver of hesitation had been present when he and Yuugi had their battle ceremony. With his pride and honor as a duelist on the line, he had given his best to defeat Yuugi, and he knew Yuugi had done the same. But maybe...just maybe, he hadn’t really wanted to move on. Suppose that had been the reason they were in this mess to begin with? Had the gods sensed his heart hadn’t been fully committed to the decision to pass over, and so denied him the afterlife?

No. Whatever doubts lingering in his heart, there was no reason Yuugi or Seto should still be caught up in all this. They were going to find a way out, and even if Bakura was waiting for them at the hidden temple, he still had the Millennium Pendant and the Three Illusionary Gods at his side. Under his name, he could unite the Three Gods to invoke Horakhty, the Creator of Light, to finish Zorc Necrophades and Bakura together. Even if the fight changed the past irrevocably, he should at least have enough power to send back Yuugi and Seto safely.

His decision made, he gave a firm nod. “Then tomorrow, we make for Kur-Elna while you keep Akhenaden occupied here.”

“Kaiba-kun?” Yuugi called, and it was only then that Atem noticed Seto’s distraction. The moment passed before he could say anything, however, and Seto returned the nod, curt but emphatic. Atem did not press. Perhaps Seto had something else he wished to take care of besides Akhenaden. Meeting Yuugi’s concerned gaze briefly, he gave a slight shake of his head. Seto trusted them at last – and the best thing to do now was to return the trust.

“Keeping Akhenaden occupied will be less troublesome than keeping Lord Siamun distracted,” Kaiba remarked with a tiny smirk , and Atem glared at him for the reminder. Still, Seto had a point. After their last visit to Kur-Elna, Siamun had been particularly jumpy about Atem going anywhere outside the palace. “And they’ll never let you go if they know you’re going after Bakura.”

Atem gave a small shrug. “What they don’t know, they can’t veto.”

“You can’t just sneak out of the palace, you know.” Yuugi’s eyes were dancing with amusement. “Remember how much trouble it caused when you did that last time? In the RPG world?”

“I won’t let Bakura get the drop on me,” Atem replied to humor Yuugi. “Besides, you’ll have my back. Even Karim commented we’re been joined at the hips lately.”

A flush infused color on Yuugi’s cheeks, and it took Atem a moment – and a glance at Seto’s smirk – to figure out why. Right. Yuugi was a healthy teenage male with an overactive imagination and a full dose of hormones.

“Not sideways either, the way I hear it,” Seto said with deliberate blandness, and Yuugi turned away, his face as red as a tomato. Atem would have given Seto a dirty look for that, but it was – just a little – disconcerting to see the two of them being...well, flirtatious. Sarcastic Seto might be, but teasing? And without malice, to boot. So Atem kept silent, watching the two of them.

“We were researching together,” Yuugi muttered, not quite meeting Seto’s eyes.

“Is that what you call it these days?” Seto’s faint smirk was directed only at Yuugi, who reddened even more, if that was at all possible. Watching Seto’s expression soften another fraction in response, Atem decided against speaking up, letting the small moment hang between them like a jewel. 

“Anyway,” Yuugi managed a moment later. “Do you want to go over more notes tonight?”

“We might as well,” Atem replied, amused to be the peacekeeper for once. “There is something I found in my great-grandfather’s records that might be worth looking into. It seems King Kamose’s priests had also attempted to decipher the text of Millennium Grimoire.”

Seto shrugged. “I borrowed some old notes of Akhenaden’s as well.”

Without permission, Atem guessed. That probably went without saying. Yuugi looked up at Seto with a smile.

“Great. Another night of research, then. Oh, and Kaiba-kun?”

“What?”

“You’re right. That _is_ what we call it these days,” said Yuugi sweetly.

~*~*~*~

The next morning, as luck would have it, Siamun was called away just before Atem announced he would join Shaada for a short round in the city. And not quite so conveniently for Seto, Akhenaden had locked himself in the Temple of Stone Tablets since last night. It did give Seto a chance to take care of his other business, one that he hadn’t mentioned to Atem or Yuugi: Kisara.

It wasn’t that he wanted to keep it a secret from them, exactly, but Kisara evoked in him too many memories. A young Kisara locked in a cage with ruthless bandits leering at her, Seth’s small but peaceful hometown, Seth’s mother and her beautiful yet sad smile, the blaze of destruction that took everything from Seth, and the half-remembered glimpse of a majestic white dragon. _Seth’s memories_ , Seto thought vehemently, _Not mine_. To Seth, who didn’t even know his father’s face, his mother had meant the world to him, enough to keep him from leaving the confines of his small village even as he chafed under its monotony. His father had given his life to protect the kingdom, his mother had told him, so that they could live in peace. And maybe Seth could have done as his father wished, until the night he unwittingly traded his mother’s life for a blue-eyed girl’s freedom.

...Seto had forgotten about his own mother around the same time he forgot to feel for Mokuba. Even after the Other Yuugi shattered his heart, forcing him to piece back his own soul, hatred for Gozaburo had left no room in his mind to wonder, even for a little while, how much pain and disappointment he would have caused his mother had she been alive. He’d been so confident he could move on from the past, yet...

Seto stopped in front of the cell. Inside, Kisara was still asleep. The thick bronze grille that made up part of the wall didn’t grant much privacy. And Kisara, exhaustion plainly written on the dark circles under her eyes, was sleeping soundly. This was the girl who held all the powers of the Blue-Eyes White Dragon, a power to rival even that of the Gods. All of that power, and no will to use it. He remembered the serene detachment on Kisara’s face as she stood passively in the face of certain death. Kisara would not fight even to save herself, and perhaps for her such power was nothing but an unwanted burden. What was Kisara to him, anyway? A foreign girl who would not fight her fate, who might even willingly give up her life if Seth but asked. Just one life, for his Blue-Eyes. Even if the memory of those unwavering blue eyes made his heart clench, why should he fight Akhenaden for her life when the girl herself chose to give up? Chose to...

His chaotic thoughts came to a sudden stop. Everything came down to a choice, didn’t it? He could choose to free Kisara and give up on the Blue-Eyes, or choose to let Akhenaden kill her and obtain the Blue-Eyes. Neither choice was particularly appealing, but given how good Seto – and Seth – was at making really bad choices, could his choice make anything worse? Seth had chosen to leave his mother that night and lost her forever, had chosen to never act on his oh-so-tender feelings toward Atem, yet judging from history, had chosen to let Atem shoulder the burden of sealing Zorc Necrophades all by himself. And Seto had chosen Gozaburo, despite his gut instinct screaming that Gozaburo was dangerous, that the man was capable of breaking parts of him that would never quite heal, chosen to forget his parents, and chosen to abandon his heart piece by piece until he forgot the very person for whom he had chosen that path. What was one more bad choice now?

“I have a feeling,” he said to unconscious Kisara, wry smile curving his lips, “that I will regret this.”

The cell door swung open with a creak, but Kisara did not stir. Quietly, Seto made his way to the small cot. He needed to wake her and get her out before Akhenaden learned her location. He just needed until Kisara was outside the royal city, then he could deal with Akhenaden himself. Seto reached out to shake her awake, brushing aside the regret of having to disturb her peaceful slumber. That was the last conscious thought in his mind before a sharp pain at the base of his skull made him see white, then nothing.

A hand reached for the Rod, which still lay in Seto’s hand, easily shaking off the slackened grip. A moment later, a shadowed figure stepped out of the cell and closed the door, leaving the unconscious pair securely locked inside.

The guards posted outside the building entrance, all of whom were unconscious, never noticed the dark figure purposefully stride out, the gleaming Rod firmly clutched in one hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical notes are back! :D
> 
> I’ve mentioned before that I’m roughly basing Atem’s timeline on Tutankhamun’s reign. There were several reasons for that. One was that Takahashi very specifically names the canon dynasty as the 18th – which is admittedly one of the most dynamic. Hatshepsut, Thutmose III, Akhenaten, Nefertiti, and the likes? Even Tutankhamun? Yep, all from the 18th dynasty. And there are some canon elements that might have been inspired by the historical persons and events around that time. Such Akhenaden’s name, which bears resemblance to the historical Akhenaten (Tutankhamun’s father), whose images and name were struck from record after his unpopular attempt to change Egypt’s religion (and move the capital city). A boy pharaoh, a king whose name was erased – all this just made Tutankhamun the perfect historical parallel for the story.
> 
> The historical Paramesse, later known as Ramesses I, was a noble from the Nile delta region. Djanet (called Tanis in Greek) was his hometown. After Tutankhamun died without a male heir, his advisor Ay took over for a few years before the power passed to Horemheb, the chief military commander. Horemheb chose as his successor Paramesse, perhaps because by that time Paramesse already had a son and a grandson, assuring a smooth royal succession. The son and grandson in question? Seti I and Ramesses II – more popularly known as Ramesses the Great. So Paramesse became the first king of the 19th dynasty.
> 
> Yes, I’ve made Anzu an Egyptian queen, a la historical Sitre, because in my headcanon Paramesse’s children by his first wife don’t survive, so Seti is in fact Anenut’s son. Moving right along.
> 
> If you guessed Paramesse’s present day incarnation, what with the dead first wife and white hair, and were absolutely horrified...that part is entirely thanks to Scribbler’s _**[A New York Love Story](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4498743/1/A-New-York-Love-Story)**_. I shall say no more. ;)
> 
> Credit for Kaiba’s thoughts on Gozaburo goes to Vathara and the wonderful Yugioh/X-men crossover fanfiction, **_[Foreign Xchange!](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/1538942/1/Foreign-xChange)_** The hips-joined-but-not-sideways joke was exactly what I’d been looking for when I was writing that scene, and I found it in Experimental’s beautiful Yami no Matsuei fanfiction, _**[seventeen](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/1530051/1/seventeen)**_.


	12. IV. RE:Call - Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today, January 31, 2014, is the Lunar New Year (aka Chinese New Year). Happy Lunar New Year! Cheers to all our Horse zodiac folks!

  
**RE:Play** by _Shiraume_  


[Written: 5/29/2009 - 12/31/2010]

**IV. RE:Call**

_Chapter Eleven_

Yuugi glanced at the shimmering forms of Shaada’s Two-Headed Jackal Warrior, Atem’s Black Magician (Mahaad? it was less the Black Magician and more Mahaad at the moment), and his own Silent Swordsman, then back at the perforated ceiling above them, and finally the blockaded entrance to the Temple of the Underworld.

“I’m beginning to think maybe we should have planned this better,” he murmured to Atem, who flicked him a half-annoyed, half-amused look. 

“Mm.” Atem’s attention was mostly at Diabound, whose form now sprawled visible under the dappled shafts of light. The giant skeletal turtle still hovered protectively over the Stone of King’s Memories, defending it from attacks and falling debris alike. The Thief King coughed, still on his knees in the aftershock of Silent Swordsman and Black Magician’s combined attack, which had thrown back Diabound halfway across the temple, destroying a dozen columns in the process.

“Your Magician gained more power after training in the Underworld,” Bakura gasped, but the eyes that rose to meet their gaze had lost none of their ferocity. “But not enough to finish me.”

The Millennium Ring gleamed on Bakura’s chest, mockingly close, yet they were no closer to taking it than when they first arrived. And it was clear Bakura would never surrender the Ring while he still breathed. Yuugi cast another nervous glance at the ceiling, riddled with holes from Black Magician’s attacks, and deprived of the supporting columns after Diabound’s fall.

“We need to get out,” he whispered for Atem’s ears alone. “You can’t summon the Gods here, the ceiling can’t take it—”

Diabound roared as Bakura struggled to his feet, and Yuugi wrenched his attention back to their opponent, startled. He hadn’t thought Diabound – or Bakura – would recover so quickly. Just then, something pale and cold streaked through the air, nearly brushing the edge of the Silent Swordsman’s robe. The vengeful spirits! He’d forgotten about them!

“Let me show you the true strength of Diabound,” rasped Bakura, amber eyes glowing like those of a wild beast. “Spirits of Kur-Elna! Enter me, and become my strength!”

Atem sucked in a sharp breath, watching the spirits gather around Bakura with a frightening speed and eagerness, pouring into the body willingly proffered as instrument for their hatred. “Mahaad!” Atem barked, and the Magician’s attacks blasted into Diabound, fluid and precise. For a moment, Yuugi thought perhaps they could still finish this—

“Mahaad!”

—Atem’s warning came a fraction of a second before the Spiral Destructive Wave hit the Magician squarely in the chest, the impact flinging him across the hall and slamming him into one of the intact columns. Atem swayed, gritting his teeth, and Yuugi put his arms around him to steady him. Here, any damage to the summoned Monster was felt directly by the duelist, and Yuuta cast a worried glance over Atem. But Atem’s attention was on Diabound, on the shimmer of protective barrier formed by the spirits, absorbing the Magician's attacks. Yuugi gasped, realizing Diabound wasn’t done, was ready to attack the Magician again. Atem was already shrugging off his support, almost visibly _willing_ Mahaad to get out of the way.

“Pharaoh!”

A scarce arm’s length from Atem, Two-Headed Jackal Warrior’s form was lit with the crackling magic of the skeletal turtle’s attack. The Two-Headed Jackal Warrior disintegrated, leaving Shaada collapsed to his knees clutching his chest, a trickle of blood staining the corner of his mouth. And at that moment, Diabound released its attack on Black Magician.

“Silent Swordsman!” Yuugi’s desperate command sent the monster leaping through the air to the Magician’s aid, although he knew it would be too late to save Mahaad.

“What?” Bakura’s anger was what gave Yuugi enough hope to lift his head. His heart leaped to see the shimmering form of Black Magician Girl hovering in the air, pulling up the Black Magician’s much lankier form by one wrist. The effort was visibly straining Mana’s newly-summoned Ka, but there was only concentration and determination on Mana’s face while she knelt by one of the holes in the ceiling, a pair of watchful guards standing over her. Yuugi didn’t bother to call out, his intent like a scythe through the darkness, sending the Silent Swordsman leaping across the air once more. The huge blade slashed through the turtle soundlessly, living up to its wielder’s name, and the turtle disappeared in a shimmer of magic. The familiar form of the Curse of Dragon whipped through the air, followed by Karim, making a beeline for Atem, who was helping Shaada to his feet. It seemed Shaada’s courageous shielding of Atem had cost him dearly. And his Millennium Key, knocked out of his hand by the shock of the attack, had already been carried off by a pale wisp of the spirits.

“Are you unharmed, pharaoh? Lord Yuugi?”

“We’re fine, but Shaada is wounded. How did you...?” Atem shifted his grip, allowing Karim to take Shaada from him.

Karim supported Shaada easily, being much taller and broader than Atem. The look Karim gave his king was part irony, part reproach. “Lord Siamun had us follow you, my king, ever since your previous trip here.”

“Busted,” Yuugi murmured to Atem, and felt him twitch, not in annoyance but in silent laughter.

“We’ll thank him later,” Atem replied, turning his attention back to Bakura and Diabound. The Thief King definitely looked worse for wear, but the amber eyes were glowing with killing intent. Yuugi stopped dead in his track, realizing the soft murmurs didn’t come from the ghosts at all, but Bakura, probably casting a spell.

“Atem!” Yuugi pushed him away a heartbeat before the flames hit, and felt the sharp burn of magic sear through him, driving him to his knees. _Ookazi – inflicts 800 points of direct damage to the opponent_ , Yuugi thought hazily as he gasped, gray dots swimming in his field of vision. And Bakura’s low laugh, cruel and amused, was like an icy blade resting against his spine. Yuugi forced himself back to his feet, throwing up a hand to stop Atem from coming over to support him.

“To think I have your old mage to thank for teaching me that spell.” Bakura’s lips curled maliciously, eyeing Yuugi with a speculative look, and at Atem, who would have come running to his side but for Karim bodily holding him back. “Well, well, well. So that’s how it is, eh?” With a look Karim sent his Curse of Dragon to hover above Yuugi protectively, sharp glance cutting through the air at Bakura, daring him to try again.

Atem didn’t wait for Bakura. His head snapped up, eyes cold and hard as ice. “I summon the Dark-Knight Gaia!” A purple horse with golden mane reared, and a knight in azure armor sat on its back, twin ruby-red spears held ready. Yuugi held his breath, safely shielded behind Curse of Dragon’s golden scales. He’d been the one to watch Atem duel the longest. For Atem to summon Gaia now...

“Karim! Use the Millennium Scale to combine Gaia and the Curse of Dragon!”

Bingo. Bakura’s incredulous exclamation was a distant background noise as the two Monsters shimmered and coalesced into the Dragon-Knight Gaia. Their joint attack pounded the shield of vengeful spirits, and the ghastly forms twisted as if in pain, trickling away from the impact like molasses. As the shield melted away under the onslaught, the Black Magician, shimmering with added magic from the Black Magician Girl, prepared to attack.

“Spiral Destructive Wave !”

The glint of gold arced in the air, and the Scale tumbled to the ground, instantly snatched away by the vengeful spirits. Yuugi stared in horror, realizing the target of Diabound’s attack wasn’t Gaia, but Karim, momentarily left without a defending monster while Gaia and Curse of Dragon were fused.

“Don’t think the same trick will work on me twice,” Bakura drawled. “And without the Scale, fusion of the monsters is undone!” Atem didn’t answer him, his eyes burning with fury, and the next instant, Black Magician’s attack struck the weakened spot in the shield where the Dragon Flame had hit moments ago. The shield of spirits faltered then shattered, and the Magician’s attack slammed into the unguarded Diabound inside. “Impossible...” Bakura gasped, blood staining his lips and dripping down his chin and Diabound, also reeling, stumbled back. Yuugi breathed a short sigh of relief, and turned to check on fallen Karim.

“Aibou!” Atem tackled him to the ground, and Diabound’s tail slashed the air where Yuugi had been, missing them by a hairbreadth. Midair, it twisted and changed its path, the sharp tip slicing lower, straight through the leather thong that held Millennium Pendant secured.

“The Puzzle!” Yuugi sprang up and reached forward, but Atem, sporting a shallow cut on his chest, yanked him back. The vengeful spirits whistled by like razor-tipped arrows where Yuugi’s hand had been a second ago. “Let me—”

“No.” Atem’s voice was fierce, and Yuugi wrenched his attention away from the Puzzle flying through the air to Bakura’s waiting hand, looking up at Atem. “Not again,” Atem hissed, and Yuugi started, a memory piercing through him, of scorching flame and shattered pieces of Millennium Puzzle pulsing in his hands. Just like the time when the two shared one body, the memory burned between them, hot as the blaze that razed Black Crown to the ground. Yuugi stilled in Atem’s grasp, Jounouchi’s half-remembered, desperate pleas ringing in his ears.

_Yuugi, please! Let go of the Puzzle!_

_No. Never._ Had he ever truly wished to let go? Not the Puzzle, but of _Atem?_ If Millennium Items really could grant wishes, then...

“I’m sorry,” Yuugi whispered. “It was me all along, wasn’t it?”

Atem shook his head once, the motion jerky and emphatic. “We’ll get it back. You’re...it’s not worth it.”

It took Yuugi a moment to remember they weren’t talking about the same thing. “It is. We have to stop him from summoning Zorc.”

“I don’t need the powers of darkness to finish off both of you,” Bakura called back mockingly, the Puzzle dangling from one hand. Yuugi frowned. Come to think of it, Bakura hadn’t bothered to place the Items into their grooves in the Stone, either. “I told you. I will steal your kingdom from you. I don’t need help from some antiquated demon god to do that.”

“Then why did you take the Items?” Atem demanded angrily. Atem’s arm was still around him, and Yuugi took care not to move too much, mindful of Atem’s injuries. Shaada was slowly pulling himself to his feet, and the Black Magician and his apprentice, even without Atem’s direction, were hovering nearby, guarding them. Without the Puzzle, Atem couldn’t summon the Three Gods anyway, so the best they could do was stall for time while searching for a way to get the Items back. Yuugi resisted looking at Karim, refused to note the unnatural stillness of Karim’s unmoving body.

“I don’t need a demon’s help,” Bakura hissed furiously, contempt dripping from each word. “But you’re not keeping the things created using my family’s flesh and blood.”

Yuugi grimaced. The thieves and grave robbers they might have been – formerly artisans left displaced and unemployed during the periods of unrest following the war – but people of Kur-Elna nonetheless had been the pharaoh’s own subjects. And he knew Atem felt responsible for the tragedy, even though the creation of Millennium Items had been before his time. _We should just have melted the damned things down when we realized how they were created. We should have never come here._

“Bakura!” Atem’s voice did not hold anger, but warning, a mere second before the cold glint of gold.

Blood marked a crimson trail from Bakura’s stained lips, trickling down slowly. Bakura coughed, or tried to, but nothing escaped him after the surprised whoosh of breath. Slowly, Bakura crumpled to the ground, and Yuugi, to his horror, found himself staring at the bloodied hidden blade of the Millennium Rod.

~*~*~*~

“You’re not needed anymore,” said a cold, gravelly voice. “In fact, you’re in the way.”

Bakura froze, uncomprehending, as pain blossomed in his back. A hand ripped the Ring from his neck, and Bakura suddenly knew who it was without looking. As Bakura sank to his suddenly powerless knees, Akhenaden moved to the Stone, placing each Item in its groove.

The frozen look of horror on the king’s face – speechless for once – was no comfort. He’d made a mistake. What was he thinking, balking at the thought of letting loose an underworld demon into this world? And after all he’d done to take his revenge? After sacrificing the blood of his treacherous men, why had he shrunk away from the final step? He should have been the one to break the seal, not Akhenaden. That power should have belonged to _him_. It was his right, paid with blood.

Gathering all his remaining strength, Bakura focused on the Ring. Among the seven Items, the Ring had been with him the longest, and knew him best. To its immense, destructive power, he added his own anger, his pain, and all of his vengeful hate. Even now the enchanted metal called to him, dark and warm. And he fed the link between the Ring and himself, fueling the insidious draw of the Ring on his soul with his willingness. The Items called out to unwary souls so seductively, so eager to swallow yet another. All he had to do was to stoke that malevolent hunger.

As the last of his consciousness faded, Bakura felt the liquid gold of Millennium Ring’s magic flood through him, grasping for his _core_. Then he knew no more.

~*~*~*~

Seto woke up slowly, mind drifting in the space between dreams and the waking world. He felt warm, his head supported by something soft. Slender fingers caressed his forehead, light and gentle.

_Mother?_

His mother had done that when he was little, stroking his forehead to sooth away a fever. It was one of the few memories he had left of his mother, cherished beyond all others because it was one of the rare moments of security and innocent happiness in his life. Was he dreaming of her, then?

“Lord Seth.”

That was his name. Then, a more coherent part of his mind objected, nudging his mind toward wakefulness. That was his name before. He was someone else now, with another name and another purpose, and other important things to protect. Protect...?

An image of Mokuba speared through his mind like a streak of lightning, and Seto’s eyes flew open. His eyes focused on twin orbs of purest blue, and he blinked once, then twice when the image refused to fade. Those blue eyes were striking next to the white hair falling softly over thin shoulders, framing her in a halo of light.

_Kisara._

“Are you awake, Lord Seth?”

Seto sat up and immediately winced, feeling a sharp ache lodged in the back of his neck, and felt Kisara’s arms around him, steadying him. Right. He’d come to set her free before Akhenaden—

_Akhenaden!_

Instinctively, Seto groped for the Millennium Rod. Gone, he thought grimly, lips pressing in a thin line, a hand gingerly feeling the back of his head. A large bump told him how he had ended up in the cell himself. He should have acted sooner. He’d _known_ Akhenaden had changed, had even told Atem as much, yet why did he think Akhenaden would miss a chance to claim the Rod? Preposterous, to let his guard down so much, when he knew how much was at stake.

“You should rest a little more.” Kisara’s gentle hands were still on him. Although he knew logically it was impossible, it was like something radiated from her very touch, soothing away his pain, refreshing him.

“I’ve rested too long,” Seto said, pushing away her support. “Ahkenaden must be halfway across the city by now, if not already across the river.” It was bad enough he’d botched her rescue so spectacularly. _If_ he was very lucky, he might have just the time to free Kisara and head off Akhenaden before he reached Kur-Elna.

“Lord Akhenaden?” Kisara’s smooth brow creased. “Why would he do this to you? He seemed fond of you.”

“Lord Akhenaden is no longer himself. He’s...” Seto swallowed hard. The sharp stab of betrayal couldn’t be his emotion, because Seto had never trusted Akhenaden. And Seth hadn’t even known that Akhenaden was his father... “He’s fallen prey to the darkness.”

The distant tingle along the edge of his consciousness was so subtle, Seto nearly missed it. But the way Kisara stiffened was unmistakable. Even before her worried voice reached his ears, Seto’s head snapped up, feeling the tingle erupt to something much more sinister.

“Lord Seth...”

The western sky was darkening, turning the day into an artificial night. Even without the unnatural chill in the air, there was no way anyone with magic could miss the feeling of wrongness. There was something foul in the air, some kind of malice that didn’t belong in the living world, spreading with every heartbeat. Seto shuddered, looking at the pitch black that was the western sky now, knowing without a doubt something had gone very, very wrong. Had Atem and Yuugi... No, best not to think about that. He needed to get out of here, plan his next move. Kaiba Seto didn’t give up without a fight, no matter what kind of odds he faced.

“Come, Kisara. We have to get out of here.”

Only his growing anger, the only weapon he had against the unease, kept him from swaying on his feet when he stood. Kisara was at his side instantly, supporting him with a strength that belied the frail frame, and it was all Seto could do to not lean on her. Seto forced himself to pull away. She was someone he had to protect, not hide behind. If nothing else, he was going to get her out of here.

The ground shook, and Seto cursed, just barely avoiding being knocked off his feet. The tremor didn’t ease, and the earthen walls of the building started to crack under the strain.

“Lord Seth, is this...could it be the creature inside me that’s causing this?”

Seto couldn’t help the short bark of laughter that escaped him. As if it could be something that benign. “No. Nothing of the sort. But I need you out of here. Now.”

“But how...”

Millennium Items were necessary only when calling out more than one Ka, Seth’s memories supplied readily. For a Ka bonded to a caller, as Dios was to Seth, nothing but magic and strength of will were needed to call it out. Even without the Rod, Dios responded to him readily, and the pull on his magic as his Ka materialized was reassuring. Once called, Dios’s sword made a quick work of the sturdy bronze bars.

“Come.”

The blue eyes met his without fear. The next moment, Kisara held out her own hand to firmly clasp Seto’s proffered hand, trusting and brave, so willing to believe in him. Seto tightened his own grip and stepped through the remnants of the bars, leading her out of the room.

“Lord Seth!”

The dark lightning speared through him, immobilizing him, and Seto went down heavily, pulling Kisara down with him. Something prickled at the edge of his senses. Within the heavy presence of evil surrounding them, he thought he’d recognized something familiar.

“We,” Seto murmured, his grip like a vice on Kisara’s hand, “are in serious trouble.”

~*~*~*~ 

“Isis!”

The priestess caught herself, putting one hand on a stone column for support. “I’m all right, Lord Siamun,” she murmured, eyes closed against the sudden dizziness that threatened to overwhelm her.

“I was afraid for you when I found you knocked out.” The wizened violet eyes found hers, darkening with concern. “I would force you to rest, were our need less grave.”

“Safety of our people, and of the queen, first,” Isis agreed, opening her eyes. “May the gods forgive us, for desecrating the holy grounds of Ipet Resyt.”

With the continuous earthquake the walls of the royal city and the palace had collapsed, and the tallest structures struck down by lightning bolts. They had no chance of defending themselves in the city. Even then opening the Southern Sanctuary should have been unthinkable. But the queen, the usually quiet and reserved lady, was nothing if not surprising, and Siamun was nothing if not practical. Between the two of them, they had come up with the idea of sheltering the city’s populace within the walls of the Southern Sanctuary.

“The Southern Sanctuary is only place big enough to hold the entire city’s population. And the only one close enough that is defensible, if only for a little while.” The old advisor’s grin was clear even through the veil covering the lower half of his face. “The queen thought of a wonderful idea, didn’t she? The temple granaries are full to the brim. If...” A shadow passed over Siamun’s face, but did not shake the firm resolution there. “They can hold out for weeks, maybe more than a month. If we can just bring the pharaoh back to safety.”

“All the more reason to hurry.” Isis forced herself away from the support of the column, aware that even in this organized panic, there were eyes that looked to her for reassurance as one of the Millennium Items’ wielders. She consciously kept her hand away from her throat, though it was difficult to ignore the absence of the Tauk. Any hint of unease from her would quickly pass down to other priests, and from there, to civilians. As yet, none save Siamun, Isis, and the queen knew that the pharaoh’s whereabouts – never mind his safety – was uncertain, two of the six Millennium Item wielders were unaccounted for, and most (if not all) of the Items themselves were likely in the hands of their enemy. Isis had glimpsed at the oncoming enemy through the eyes of Spiria. The enemy forces, heralded by unnatural earthquakes and storms of lightning, weren’t human. Nothing that belonged under the bright rays of the sun, those foul creatures of the netherworld. To face them without the Millennium Items was hopeless, but Isis dared not show even merest hint of her terror before the eyes of the people.

“What worries me is that Seth is missing, so soon after Lord Akhenaden disappeared.”

Isis looked at Siamun, surprised. “You don’t think that _Lord Seth_ was the one who—”

“No, no, I’ve known the boy for years. His heart’s in the right place. A bit impatient and arrogant perhaps, but such is youth. I do not doubt Seth’s loyalty to the pharaoh. But it isn’t like him to be absent in an emergency like this. Given how I found you, I cannot help worrying. He, too, may have been surprised by the enemy.”

“Or perhaps he is already on his way to the pharaoh’s side. That would be like him.” Isis knew she was saying the words partly to reassure herself. If anyone could take care of himself, it was Seth. With the exception of the pharaoh, Seth was the strongest mage of their generation, rivaled only by the late Priest Mahaad. If Seth had been taken down, too... Isis pulled her mind away from troubling thoughts. She had a duty to complete here in pharaoh’s absence: to protect their people, and their queen. 

“Lord Siamun! Priestess Isis! The scouts report the enemy forces have crossed the river and entered the fields outside the city walls!” A soldier on horseback reported with admirable composure, even with the urgency of his report.

Siamun nodded shortly. “Ride ahead and report to the queen. Tell her that the people must hurry to the Sanctuary as quickly as possible and bar the gates behind them.” The soldier saluted quickly, and rode away toward the head of the crowd. The senior advisor next turned to the priests and other members of the court following them, whose faces showed fear, but also determination. “We have no choice but to divide our forces. A number of our soldiers must be dedicated to defending the Sanctuary, to safeguard our people and the pharaoh’s wife. I will lead the rest to the field and meet the enemy there. Gods willing, we will hold them off until the pharaoh returns.”

“You have the responsibility of seeing our queen and our people to safety, my lords,” Isis reminded them, her voice firm and resolute. “You mustn’t fail us. Until the pharaoh returns, you must keep them safe within the Southern Sanctuary. Lord Siamun and we will hold back the enemy forces no matter what it takes.”

The courtiers and priests bowed to them, and hastened away. After the generals of the army were dismissed with further instructions, Siamun turned to her with a thoughtful frown.

“I would have liked to send you to the Southern Sanctuary with the people, Isis.”

“Not while the pharaoh’s safety remains uncertain. The foremost duty of the six priests is to protect the pharaoh.”

Siamun smiled at her, fond and proud. “Nothing less from one of the six.”

Isis smiled back, trying to hold back yet another disquieting idea lurking in her thoughts. Of the six, Seth was quite possibly the best duelist. She herself held the Tauk, which enabled her to foresee the future. And Akhenaden, whose Eye never missed a threat, rarely left the Temple of Stone Tablets, which was one of the most heavily guarded place even within the palace. How could an outsider, even one as cunning as Bakura, penetrate the defenses of the palace so easily and take down three priests at once? Unless there had been a collaborator hidden within the walls of the palace itself, someone who not only knew who possessed the Items, but also where they could be found. Even then, to elude the powers of three Millennium Items seemed improbable at best.

Doubting her fellow priests was like doubting herself. But wasn’t it strange that she was the only one found, unconscious but alive, while the other two priests simply disappeared? Why would Bakura leave her alive at all? And if Mahaad was of any indication, the Thief King could have simply killed the three of them and left their bodies behind as a message. Kidnapping wasn’t his style, if it were even possible to keep both Seth and Akhenaden subdued. So where were the other two? _If only Mahaad were still alive_ , Isis thought, biting her lower lip. If no one else, she knew she could trust Mahaad.

“Isis.”

Isis found the violet eyes studying her with a knowing look. Siamun nodded, eyes calm and understanding. “Doubt has no end. At a time like this, what one needs is faith, not doubt. Let us believe that Seth and Akhenaden are safe, and that their hearts are with us even if they’re not.”

A genuine smile tugged at her lips, and Isis nodded. “Yes, Lord Siamun.”

“Come.” Siamun mounted his horse with the poise of an old warrior, which, Isis recalled belatedly, he was. Before he became the chief advisor, he, too, had been one of the six priests chosen to wield the Millennium Items. “We must not allow those foul creatures to overrun our city.”

Isis mounted her horse, declining the helping hand from the soldier who held the horse’s rein. Now was not the time for doubts or weaknesses.

“I am with you, to the end,” she promised, steel entering her voice.

Siamun nodded curtly, then with a swift kick to his horse’s flank, he was off, Isis following closely behind. The thunder of the hooves and feet rang out clear despite the rumbling ground, as the soldiers followed the two priests down the main avenue, toward the gates of the royal city, toward the encroaching darkness.

~*~*~*~

“Yuugi! Yuugi! Answer me!”

“I’m here,” came a faint answer, and Atem let out the breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding. Less than ten feet from him, there were neatly sliced chunks of rubble lying in a rough circle, tip of a huge broadsword visible behind them. “Just had to get something. Give me a second.”

A few flashes of the silvery sword, and the rubble fell away in smaller slices, revealing the Silent Swordsman with his sword resting on one shoulder, its tall figure dwarfing Yuugi. Atem let out a soft sigh, relief sagging his shoulders at seeing Yuugi unharmed.

“What did you have to get?” Atem asked, not quite able to work up the proper level of concerned anger at Yuugi’s recklessness. Yuugi, looking rather triumphant for someone who was bruised and dusty, brandished a large, rectangular object in his hand.

“I caught a glimpse of it before. I figured it must be important if Bakura was keeping it so close. You’d said the Millennium Grimoire was missing, and well, the design on the cover looked familiar, so...”

The Eye. Atem sucked in a sharp breath. A book whose cover featured the very design of the Eye also featured on every single Millennium Item. If this book was indeed the lost Millennium Grimoire, it would explain how Bakura knew so much about the Items. “And the scrolls?”

“I don’t know, notes? Translations? I figure, if Bakura kept them—”

“—Then they must be important.” Atem gave him a wry look. “All the same, I wish you wouldn’t take risks like that without warning me first.”

“What, so we can take them together?”

Atem did not grin back. “Yes.”

Yuugi met his gaze for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Sorry.”

“Akhenaden... Zorc could have finished us off.” Atem glanced around, surveying the damage. Parts of the ceiling had collapsed completely, leaving the underground temple caved in underneath. Mana and her Ka, Black Magician Girl, seemed mostly unscathed while the Black Magician looked a bit worse for wear. Shaada and a handful of the soldiers had also survived.

Karim, cradled in Shaada’s arms, was as still as the stones surrounding them.

“Karim?” Atem asked, looking straight at Shaada, who shook his head heavily.

“Pharaoh, the Items,” Shaada said, and Atem started, realizing the Seven Items were still resting on the Millennium Stone, which had been left miraculously intact throughout the ordeal. Almost all of them – the Rod was missing, but Atem had a good guess who might have taken it.

“I don’t understand. Even if they don’t need the Items anymore, don’t they realize you can call out the Three Illusionary Gods with the Puzzle?” Yuugi asked while he and Atem cautiously made their way with help from the soldiers and the summoned Monsters. “Not to mention – you know.”

“Perhaps they didn’t realize the true power of the Three Gods.” Atem gathered the Items carefully, retying the Puzzle to a strap of leather and replacing it around his neck. “In the RPG, I heard the secret from Hassan. It’s possible that the Dark Priest and Zorc don’t know it.”

“Or...maybe, the Dark Priest had a more pressing business.” The pointed look from Yuugi made Atem start. Come to think of it, during the RPG, Seth had gone missing in the final battle against Zorc because the Dark Priest had abducted him, intent on forcing his son to join him.

“Seto,” Atem said, his blood suddenly like ice in his veins.

“Pharaoh!”

The cry was from one of their soldiers, pointing towards the sky. Atem and Yuugi hurried back to the ground, and gaped at the sky. Darkness was spreading eastward like black ink, blotting out the sun. Crackling lightning struck the ground, and the entire earth shook, as if trembling in fear.

“The earthquake. It’s only happening across the river,” Yuugi said sharply. “It’s right outside the city.”

“Demons,” Shaada breathed, looking at the writhing mass of darkness creeping over the land like poison. “Creatures of the netherworld.”

“We need to get to the city. The people—”

Yuugi didn’t have a chance to finish. Atem had his hand on the Puzzle faster than thought, invoking the name of a god, summoning a pillar of monstrous strength reaching to the heavens.

“Come forth, Great Soldier of Obelisk!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s always challenging to re-write an existing canon scene. Particularly the scene at the underground temple where Atem and Thief King Bakura face off, because it’s a crucial moment in the manga (and anime). I had to reconstruct that part completely, have it make sense (more or less), but in the end reasonably match the canon events. One tiny infinitesimal bit I can’t help but point out? In the canon, Diabound uses Thunder Force by this time. I’d originally written that, too. Then I remembered Diabound learned that attack from Osiris, and that was from the battle in Volume 34. In this version of the events, Diabound would not have learned it at all, since that particular battle never happened. Hence I had to revert it back to Spiral Destructive Wave. Bummer.
> 
> Yes, I also had a blatant ripoff moment from _The Mummy (1999)_. Sorry about that.
> 
> I know in the Yugioh canon, the “past” events are supposed to take place in the Memory World where the rules of physics are bent all the time. Even still, I wanted the events in _**RE:Play**_ to have some reasonable connectivity so that the overall “historical” events still made sense. So I took quite a bit of liberty with the canon. Hopefully it all makes sense in the end?
> 
> There is one more chapter to come, and then it will be the epilogue! (Finally.)


	13. IV. RE:Call - Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coincidentally, the 2014 Valentine's Day falls on a night of full moon. Not just any full moon, but the very first full moon of the year by the lunar calendar, which is celebrated in my culture.
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day! Just one more left to go -- the epilogue -- after this chapter. I hope you enjoy the last chapter of **_RE:Play_**.

  
**RE:Play** by _Shiraume_  


[Written: 5/29/2009 - 12/31/2010]

**IV. RE:Call**

_Chapter Twelve_

“Lord Siamun! We can’t hold out much longer! Our weapons are meaningless against them, and almost half our soldiers have fallen. We must retreat!”

Isis bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. If nothing else, they needed to buy time for the queen and the court to barricade the Southern Sanctuary against the oncoming assault. This whole battle was a slow but inevitable retreat as the enemy continued to push them back, and they hadn’t a prayer of breaking through to the river. If Siamun was right in his guess, the pharaoh must had gone to face Bakura at Kur-Elna. But now, when they needed the power of the Three Gods the most, the pharaoh was across the river from them, with a vast demon army between the city and its sovereign protector.

And without the aid of the Items, the drain from using one’s Ka was crippling in a lengthy battle. Isis could feel the numbness in her fingertips, and knew she was only minutes away from collapsing. All of the surviving priest-mages who accompanied them were in a similar state, or already unconscious, drained nearly to death. But they were still clinging to their summoned Monsters, ready to fight to the death, every last one of them. If they could just hold on until pharaoh could be reached...if they could...

“Look!”

The western sky suddenly burst into daylight, streaks of fiery red-gold streaking the sky like a sun rising from the west, spreading eastward. A cry echoed through the air, and a shining blaze of flame swept across the field, burning a clear path through the ranks of the enemy, all the way from the river to the line of soldiers. Even before the flame died down, a gigantic blue hand lowered in their midst, gently setting down the pharaoh and his companions.

“Pharaoh!” Isis exclaimed, and heard her cry echoed from everywhere within sight. The pharaoh, even exhausted and injured, was looking fiercely determined, no sign of defeat or even fear. Yuugi, equally unwavering, was already drawing a card.

“Go get Seto,” Yuugi said calmly as a silvery light coalesced into the Silent Magician. The pharaoh looked taken aback, looking at Yuugi, who returned the look earnestly. “We can’t leave him to the Dark Priest. We need him.”

The golden phoenix reared back, and shot another burst of flame across the field, destroying another wave of Zorc’s army trying to close in on a group of soldiers. The writhing mass of darkness near the western edge of the field was coalescing into a clearer shape, and the pharaoh hesitated.

“Zorc – he will be at full strength soon. If I don’t strike now—”

“Atem, please.” Yuugi’s wide eyes pleaded with him, heartrending but resolute. “We can’t leave Seto to chance.”

“We can hold off the enemy for a little while, pharaoh,” Shaada reminded him, holding up the Millennium Key. Isis took the Tauk from Shaada and clasped it around her neck, its weight solid and reassuring.

“The people have been evacuated to the Southern Sanctuary, along with the queen and the rest of the court. All that remains now is to deal with the threat.” Siamun, to Isis’s surprise, was taking up the Scale himself as he reported to the pharaoh. “Seth is one of our best duelists. His help will be invaluable, if he can be returned to us.”

The pharaoh’s violet eyes slid closed, then opened, shining with a new determination. “Isis, take Karim’s body and that book to the Southern Sanctuary. Mana—”

The young priestess shook her head, short and emphatic. “I can fight. Besides, someone should go with you, prince.”

“There is no time,” the pharaoh snapped. “I can reach Seto on my own. Isis, do as I say. You’re in no shape to continue the battle.”

Isis lowered her head, shame and sorrow mingling in her heart. She hadn’t even had the time to digest the shock of Karim’s death. To be thrust away from battle like this, even to escort Karim’s remains, was painful.

“But prince—”

Mana again, protesting even a direct order from the pharaoh. Then again, the girl had never stood on ceremony even after her playmate became their sovereign. The pharaoh shook his head again, but his eyes were a bit softer. “Stay with Yuugi, Mana. For me.”

The pharaoh did not wait for Mana to nod her acquiescence, smoothly jumping on horseback, and with a last nod to Yuugi, was off toward the royal palace.

“This book is really important,” Yuugi said to Isis, and Isis blinked in surprise. “You have to keep this one safe. Please?”

Isis squared her shoulders. If both Yuugi and Mana were going to stay and fight, the least she could do was to complete the pharaoh’s order and return quickly to support them.

“I’ll be back as soon as I entrust these to the queen,” Isis promised them, this time allowing a soldier to help her mount the horse. Another soldier, having placed Karim’s body – hastily covered with a cloak – on a wagon, was waiting for her. Isis received the book from Yuugi’s hand, cradling it carefully with one arm. “Be careful.”

“You too,” Yuugi answered with a brief smile.

With a last look at the others, Isis spurred her horse to a swift gallop to the Southern Sanctuary.

~*~*~*~

Back in the future, in the modern Domino City, Japan, the word ‘fate’ had always seemed like a distant concept to Atem. Even when Ishizu had told him that fate had been leading him all along, that it was his destiny to uncover the secret of the tomb-keepers and face the evil god, he had been so focused on recovering his own past that the idea had paled in comparison, all but forgotten in the back of his mind.

But even with all the knowledge of the past events, he had been unable to change them. Not a damned thing. Everything in the past had happened exactly as they originally had 3,000 years ago.

And if fate indeed was forcing his hand, then choosing to face the Dark Priest without destroying – or at least sealing – Zorc Necrophades could very well prove a fatal decision. That had been the reason he’d hesitated, unsure his choice would not compromise both Yuugi and Seto. But he’d never truly been able to deny Yuugi anything, and could he, even knowing the danger Yuugi and his priests faced, truly leave Seto to the uncertain hands of fate? And it wasn’t Seth in that body, but Kaiba Seto of the future, who shouldn’t even be involved in this.

Atem did not slow down his horse as he approached the palace walls, charging straight over their tumbled-down remains. He made his way to the main hall where his throne sat without incident. The tainted presence of the Dark Priest was familiar now, recognizable even at a distance. Even if Atem hadn’t recalled the throne room was where he would find the Dark Priest and Seth, he would have been able to locate them.

Black lightning filled the air, and his horse reared in terror. Atem jumped off, pulling hard on the rein and placing a calming hand on its neck. Just then, he saw a flash of white, and his heart lurched, recognizing the figure in blue robe crouched on the floor, directly in the path of an attack—

“KISARA!”

—And a slender, white figure that ran to intercept the attack, taking the full brunt of it. The impact lifted the girl’s body clear off the ground, sending her tumbling to Seto’s feet, lifeless before she hit the ground. A white dragon, writhing in agony, was slammed into a waiting stone tablet, crackling white lightning extinguished harmlessly as the Monster was sealed. A normal extraction of Ka didn’t leave the host dead, Atem remembered explaining to Yuugi: the dragon was the Ka and Ba of the girl, fused together like Mahaad’s had been to form the Black Magician. Even as Seto scrambled to reach her, Atem could sense the gaping emptiness in her body, the living soul ripped entirely from its vessel, leaving nothing but a shell behind. The Dark Priest was dissolving, too, the darkness oozing out of the gaping self-inflicted wound, and Atem stiffened, realizing what he planned a second too late.

“Seto! Watch out!”

The dark energy engulfed Seto completely, leaving the Dark Priest’s body to crumble to the ground, abandoned. Atem cursed, feeling Mahaad close behind him, watching. Another stone tablet was ready, with the figure of Black Magician inscribed on its surface, but Atem knew just what they would be facing only moments later, when the Dark Priest took over Seth’s body.

Seto. Not Seth, but _Kaiba Seto_. The only opponent who had been his equal -- perhaps even a friend. So different from the friendship he shared with Jounouchi, but equally weighty in his heart. Yet Atem had never realized how much he relied on it until now. The person he was facing wasn’t Seto. It was a parasite, a darkness leeching on a soul he’d come to care for, even – and he could admit this now, at least to himself – love.

“Seto, can you hear my voice?”

Black Magician was preparing to attack the stone tablet, which would cancel the summoning magic that held the newly-born Blue-Eyes White Dragon to the Dark Priest’s command. Without even looking, he knew exactly what counterattack the Dark Priest would use. It didn’t matter; Mahaad couldn’t help him, not in this duel.

How could he reach Seto? Defeating him in a duel wouldn’t make a difference. Even if his Mind Crush had forced Seto to rebuild his heart at the conclusion of Death-T, _he_ hadn’t been the one to change Seto. Or during the Battle City semifinal, when he’d finally seen deeper into Seto’s heart and saw the prison of hatred which kept Seto from reaching for his full potential as a duelist. Atem’s victory then, however, hadn’t been enough to convince him of that, either.

“Her death wasn’t your fault. You can’t let the Dark Priest win.”

The Black Magician’s stone tablet shattered, and Mahaad dissipated, unable to stay linked to him without the magic of the tablet. Even Mahaad’s worry caressing the edge of his mind was but a distant afterthought.

“You were able to put together your shattered heart and reclaim it from the darkness. You came back...for Mokuba.

“Break free from the prison of your mind, Seto. Come back.”

The white dragon reared, streaks of white lightning gathering in its mouth, ready to release its attack. The Dark Priest was laughing, triumphant and gloating.

“Come back to us. Please, Seto.”

The dragon’s mouth opened, crackling with magic. Any instant now, the destructive power of Burst Stream would rip through him. This was a gamble he should never have risked, not with Zorc Necrophades still at large, barely held at bay by none other than Yuugi. If Seto lost himself to the darkness that sought to ensnare his soul, Atem would die here and the whole world would be destroyed, left at an evil god’s mercy. It wasn’t right to put the safety of one person before the fate of the entire world, but... How could he have left Seto to face this alone? Yuugi would never have forgiven him. And, Atem knew with painful clarity, neither would he.

“Come back to me, Seto.”

The infinitesimal pause before the dragon’s attack released seemed like an eternity. Then, the magic dissipated while the white dragon held still, regarding him with eyes that held startlingly human emotion behind them. Paying no attention to the screams of the Dark Priest, Blue-Eyes looked directly into Atem’s eyes for a long moment. Then, like mist before a rising sun, it disappeared, both from the arena and the stone tablet.

Atem held his breath, nearly reaching for Seto, then recoiled the next moment, feeling the magic of Blue-Eyes White Dragon wash through Seto’s entire body. The dragon wasn’t in the physical world, but... Could it have somehow entered Seto’s mind? Ka and Ba, the dragon was Kisara’s soul. Was she able to touch Seto’s soul directly, to reach past the darkness keeping it trapped?

“Seto!”

He did not answer Atem, reaching out slowly to touch Kisara’s pale cheek. For a brief moment his eyes slid closed, face tight with contained grief. When he looked up, Atem let out a sigh of relief, recognizing the soul that gazed back at him from behind the blue eyes. Seto’s expression was too serious for a smile, but the darkness had been lifted from him. The next minute, Seto grasped the hand Atem held out, and Atem blinked, realizing he’d offered it automatically, hardly believing it was actually accepted. Slowly, Seto pulled himself to his feet, but did not let go of Atem’s hand.

“Are you all right?”

Seto looked at him with an expression that translated a sardonic question even without the raised eyebrow, and Atem pulled his hand back, suddenly conscious of the warmth spreading from the contact.

Or tried to. Seto didn’t let go, and Atem stood uncertainly, not sure what to say now that he had managed to reach Seto.

Dark lightning streaked across the sky , and Seto looked up with a frown. “Zorc.” He pinned Atem with a bright blue stare, and Atem barely kept from looking away, suddenly feeling like he’d been caught doing something gratuitously self-indulgent. “It’s not over. And you— You left Yuugi alone?”

“Yuugi wanted me to get you first.” This time, Atem looked away, unable to face the unfamiliar emotion in Seto’s eyes. “I wanted to get you first,” he admitted softly, looking down at their joined hands.

The next moment, he had to look up again, because Seto started pulling on his hand like Seth used to when they were children.

“Come on, then. Let’s go fry that bastard.”

It wasn’t a promise, exactly. And he was reasonably sure if – _when_ he succeeded in defeating Zorc, he would have to move on to afterlife, and Seto and Yuugi would return to the future, where they belonged. Maybe it was just a whim of some indulgent god to grant them a little bit of time together. Maybe it was fate, showing the vicious side of its humor. Maybe.

But then again, maybe it was all worth it for this handful of memories just for the three of them. The memories that didn’t belong to Atem of the past or the Other Yuugi in the future, but to _him_ , who was both.

Atem squeezed back, determined to treasure every moment to the end, and smirked right back.

“All right. Let’s go.”

~*~*~*~ 

The faint clink of chains faded, scattering in the air with the last of Exodia’s magic. Tears blurred his sight, and Yuugi didn’t dare look even when Mana gave out a short, piercing cry of grief and rushed to Siamun’s side. The Millennium Key, slipped out of Siamun’s hand, was at the edge of his vision, but he couldn’t look up, not at the Key or the old priest who lay unmoving in Mana’s lap not five feet away. Because if he looked now, he would want to just curl up and cry until the darkness and death rolled over them all. Yuugi lowered Shaada’s cooling body gently to the ground and pulled himself back on his feet. He was acutely aware they had no more covering Monsters save for the Black Magician Girl, and damage to this particular Monster would hurt Mana, maybe even kill her. Setting a trap card facedown, he drew another card, a spell card.

“Sealing Swords of Light!”

Swords of pure light rained down from heaven, pinning the vanguards of Zorc’s army in their places. It wasn’t enough to stop Zorc, becoming more solid with each passing second, or the rest of the army moving up from behind, but it could buy them just a little bit of the time they desperately needed. Yuugi held up the next card, a Monster card. The draw on his already drained magic was almost unbearable, but Yuugi forced himself to continue. His fingertips were icy, barely able to draw the cards.

“Red Gadget!” Which meant the Yellow Gadget was now in his hand, but covering Monsters alone wouldn’t be enough when the restraining hold of the Sealing Swords gave out. Yuugi’s chin rose, eyes hard as gems. Losing wasn’t an option here, not after he promised Atem he would hold back the enemy until Atem returned with Seto. “Red Medicine!” he called, and felt the chill dissipate from his body, just enough to call another.

“Lightning Vortex!”

A storm of lightning descended, burning away the demons and giving their soldiers a moment of respite and a chance to regroup. Across the plain, a fully solidified Zorc roared, another wave of dark energy spreading through the battlefield, reviving the dead demons. Yuugi took a quick, nervous gasp of breath. Time to find out if a trap could bind Zorc, even for a moment. He flipped the facedown card, pulling up all of his strength to force the trap into place.

“Curse of Hexagram!”

“Shadow Spell!”

Yuugi blinked, watching dark chains sail through the air just as the shining green hexagram array materialized around Zorc. The double binding wavered when Zorc struggled and let out a roar of fury, but held. The barbed red tail of Osiris curled around him protectively, and Yuugi nearly sobbed in relief as Atem and Seto jumped down to join him on the battlefield. Seto’s hand on his shoulder was warm and hard, settling down with a surety that was purely Seto. Atem was on his other side, eyes defiant and fearless, the Winged Dragon of Ra shining like a small sun above them. Atem was already holding up the Millennium Puzzle, summoning the third God Card by the name, ready to end this once and for all.

There was no time for doubts, to wonder if this was the right thing to do. To defeat Zorc here and now was to change the history forever. Seto’s hand convulsed, tightening over his shoulder, and Yuugi knew Seto was thinking the same thing. Would this truly allow them to return to the future, where their friends and family waited?

“Under the name of the pharaoh, I combine the powers of the Three Illusionary Gods, to call Horakhty, the Creator of Light!”

Ra, Osiris, and Obelisk turned into three columns of light, swirling together, becoming one—

The three columns separated, returning to the original forms of the Sky Dragon, Winged Dragon, and Great Soldier. For one moment that felt like an eternity, Yuugi stared, unable to believe it. Seto’s grip on his shoulder was painful now, but he barely felt it.

“Why...?”

Atem’s face, when Yuugi dared to look, was strangely expressionless, watching the Curse of Hexagram crackle and break. The dark chains of Shadow Spell were also unwinding, breaking away like rotted wood. “I think I know,” Atem finally murmured, voice quiet and reflective. “If my name was the only key, there was no reason I couldn’t have defeated Zorc in the past. I’d forgotten it wasn’t.”

_Undoing the ancient seal of 3,000 years was impossible with your powers alone_ , Horakhty’s words came back to Yuugi like whispers of the wind. _The spirit of your friends protecting you, and the bonds supporting you...those are the true power necessary to unlock the seal._

“Because Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun and Anzu...because they’re not here?”

“Ridiculous!” Seto’s grip tightened on Yuugi’s shoulder hard enough to bruise, and Yuugi reached for that hand blindly, his own hand equally tight around it. “After all this, we came all the way here just to repeat history?”

Atem actually smiled at him. “Whether or not that’s the case, we have no time left.”

“We’ve talked about this—”

“And it looks like you were half-right, Seto. It _is_ a stupid plan. But this isn’t a lost cause.”

“Atem!” Seto’s tone was angry, but Yuugi felt a tremor going through the hand clenched on his shoulder.

“There is no guarantee it will send us back,” Yuugi said, voice wooden, words leaving his lips without any conscious thought behind them.

“But we can’t leave it like this, either.” Atem’s eyes bored into his, and Yuugi desperately wanted to look away, wanted to deny the icy grip of truth mercilessly squeezing his heart. It was either help Atem seal Zorc away, or continue fighting Zorc in what was very likely a pointless battle with no hope of victory. “Yuugi, I can’t do this alone.”

“Fuck this. I’m not Seth, and I’m sure as hell not going to let you do it.”

Yuugi realized with a distant sort of surprise that Seto has seized Atem’s arm with his free hand in what looked like a painful grip. A faint ghost of a thought whispered in his mind, that perhaps he hadn’t been the only one unable to let Atem go. If the Millennium Items could grant wishes, perhaps it hadn’t been just his wish they granted.

And this... _this_ was the conclusion of that wish? To merely repeat history?

“I can’t let you go,” Yuugi whispered, tears choking his voice. They couldn’t let Zorc destroy Egypt, the world. Not when so many had already given their lives to protect the kingdom. But this – this wasn’t _fair_ , that Atem had to sacrifice his soul to finish the battle _again_.

“I won’t be gone forever.” Atem firmly pulled Seto’s hand away to lace their fingers together, and reached for Yuugi’s hand with the other. “Please, Seto.” Seto refused to meet Yuugi’s eyes or Atem’s, glowering with anger bright enough to burn. Atem was patient, tugging them together until the three of them were in a tight little circle, standing shoulder to shoulder, until he could catch Seto’s reluctant gaze. After a long, long moment, Seto raised his face, and the strength of feeling startlingly clear in his eyes left Yuugi breathless. Had he not seen it, he would never have imagined Seto’s beautiful blue eyes, usually so distant and cold, could hold so much emotion behind them.

“You owe me a rematch. Don’t forget.”

Atem smiled and nodded once. Yuugi could find nothing to say, and looked back at Atem helplessly, blinking away the tears burning in his eyes. Atem’s smile turned tender, so achingly gentle, and Yuugi gasped, feeling his chest constrict sharply in small sobs.

“Aibou,” Atem called softly. “See you in the future, hm?” One step back, another, and then another, and Atem slid from both of their grasp, looking back at them with naked affection so rare to grace his face. “I only need a few moments. Be careful.”

Atem’s last smile was for Mana, who sat cradling Siamun’s body, uncomprehending, but instinctively understanding the magnitude of the situation. Her lips formed his name, but no sound escaped her.

With an earthshaking roar, the Winged Dragon of Ra surged upward, quickly joined by the Sky Dragon of Osiris, and the Great Soldier of Obelisk towering over the ground like a colossal mountain. When the three Egyptian Gods were gone, so was Atem.

“All this was for nothing,” Yuugi said bitterly, his tears finally falling.

“We will meet again, all of us, in 3,000 years.” Seto’s voice was fierce. Yuugi blinked away his tears, looking at the earnest blue gaze boring down at him. “This is the only way our future can exist. He knows it, and so do you.”

He did. He’d thought he had. But Atem was still gone and he’d let Atem go alone. “That’s not worth this. _Nothing_ can be worth this,” Yuugi rasped, knowing Seto didn’t need this from him, but unable to stop himself.

“It is,” Seto whispered fiercely, “to me.” In shock, Yuugi stared at him. Seto’s eyes were pure steel. “Don’t you tell me everything we’ve done, everything that happened since he became a part of our lives...all that was for nothing. Don’t you _dare_ tell me that, Yuugi.”

An arm closed around him like a steel ring, enveloping him in hard warmth, bracing him against the increasing gale that raised the sand in a wall of gold, engulfing everything. The magic was so thick in the air, they could almost choke on it. Then, a flash of light brightened the western sky, turning the night into day. The shockwave of magic that exploded from the west side of the plain swept across the city in a pulse of light, wrapping the entire city and beyond in a blinding blaze for an instant.

Then the light was gone as quickly as it had come, leaving only the silent night behind.

~*~*~*~

In the heart of the glowing sphere of magic, Atem stood nestled in the power of Three Gods, flowing through him like swift river-current. Outside, Zorc Necrophades raged like a roiling thunderstorm, trying to swallow him – and the power of the Three Illusionary Gods – whole. Atem could have smiled, if he had the time.

Somewhere along the way, between the battle in the future and the battle for the past, he’d forgotten why he started fighting in the first place. Even since he awoke in the future, he’d fought out of instinct, out of desire, and out of necessity. And maybe, he hadn’t actually wanted to stop fighting even when he went to the Temple of the Underworld to face Yuugi for their battle ceremony. Maybe, he hadn’t really accepted Yuugi’s victory in his heart because he wasn’t ready to stop.

He’d been able to fight because he had the strength, but his strength did not exist so he could simply continue to fight. His strength existed so that he could protect. He fought because he had something – someone – to protect. Three thousand years had made him forget: being at peace, letting go of his sword – it wasn’t about defeat or surrender. It was acceptance, that his first choice had been the right one. It had been a choice he made to keep his loved ones safe. It was the choice he would make no matter how many times he was given the chance.

Closing his eyes, Atem let the magic build inside him until it became a maelstrom of light, relaxing into the crackling, pure energy that was his own power. Delicate, sparkling threads of light wove through the darkness. So fragile, yet unbreakable as his determination, holding fast the darkness, embracing it like a lover. Feeling the golden net complete its circuit around Zorc’s presence, he drew it inward, towards the pulsing heartbeat of the Millennium Puzzle. His intent was focused and absolute, unshakable, yet his touch remained as gentle as a baby’s breath. Confused by the resolute yet soft hold of Atem’s power, Zorc’s own briefly faltered. It was all the opening Atem needed.

Letting all of his love and hope flood him like a tidal wave, Atem surrendered himself to their light, and _let go_.

**END OF PART IV**


	14. RE:Play

  
**RE:Play** by _Shiraume_  


[ Written 5/29/2009-12/31/2010 :: Finished 2/22/2014 ]

**RE:Play**

A tear rolled down Yuugi’s cheek. The sudden chill around his body told him Seto was no longer holding him. Yuugi blinked away his tears, momentarily disoriented, and realized he was looking at something very familiar.

Yuugi gasped, looking at the Gate to the Underworld with disbelief. He whirled around to find Anzu, Jounouchi, and Honda standing behind him, all with tears in their eyes. Behind them, his grandpa, Bakura, Otogi, Ishizu, Malik, even Rishid. Mokuba. And Seto.

Seto’s eyes had widened only slightly, but it was all the confirmation he needed. Yuugi groped for the necklace hidden under his school jacket, and felt the warm weight of the cartouche. His fingertips traced the pendant blindly, finding ridges and dips of engraved markings instead of smooth surface. Heart racing, Yuugi pulled the cartouche pendant over his head to look at it properly.

The silvery pendant caught the dim light, and on its face, the hieroglyphs for Atem’s name was clearly visible, engraved with delicate, double-stroked outline. Yuugi turned it over, and looked at his own name, similarly engraved on the other side.

Sharp blue eyes cut across the room, the turmoil like thunderclouds in their depths, and Yuugi knew Seto remembered, too.

“Nii-sama, what’s wrong?”

Seto started like someone waking from a dream, breaking away his gaze to look at his little brother. For a brief instant he simply looked at Mokuba like he wanted to pull his brother into his arms, just to reassure himself the boy was really there. Then, Seto’s eyes looked back to Yuugi for a brief instant, then the moment passed as if never been. “Nothing,” he said quietly, his hand coming to rest lightly on Mokuba’s shoulder.

The rumbling tremor that shook the Temple took all of them by surprise. Yuugi nearly reached for his deck before remembering this wasn’t the past, and earthquakes weren’t caused by a spell here.

“The ceiling’s coming down!” Rishid was quick, already bundling his family off toward the stairs, gesturing for the rest of them to follow. Yuugi hesitated only for a moment, looking back at the Gate to the Underworld, and the Stone of King’s Memories. Even as he watched, the Stone cracked into pieces and fell into the chasm underneath, taking the Millennium Items with it. He nearly reached for the Puzzle, and he might have fallen in had Jounouchi not grabbed him and hauled him away.

“Yuugi! We need to go!”

As they raced up the staircase, Yuugi thought he caught a glimpse of Shaadi, standing before the Gate to the Underworld, looking calm and peaceful.

Just as they made it outside, the entire structure collapsed leaving only the entrance visible, albeit blocked with great blocks of rubble. They all stood still, looking at the entrance to the Temple, and at the unbroken stretch of sand surrounding them. Yuugi was acutely aware of Seto’s presence only a few feet away, and squared his shoulders, wiping away all traces of his tears.

He would not dishonor Atem’s memory by breaking down here. Not while Seto was watching. And his friends – his dear Jounouchi, Honda, and Anzu – would not be able to let go and move on if he didn’t take the first step.

Taking a deep breath, Yuugi took his first step over the golden sand, back toward the ship.

~*~*~*~

A week later, back at Domino City, Yuugi found himself slipped back into his old life like he’d never left. In a weird way, school helped, providing him with a familiar routine that predated...everything else. Seto hadn’t been around, but Jounouchi, Honda, and Anzu all stayed close to him, as did Otogi and Bakura, drawing comfort from each other’s presence. Yuugi thought perhaps he was in shock or denial, unable to process the fact Atem was gone. For all intent and purpose, Atem had died, even though his physical death had been over three thousand years ago. And he thought, any day now, the grief would settle in, and he would cry for the passing of his best friend and partner.

Actually, that might have been the collective view of his friends about his strange reticence. They seemed to be waiting for him, hovering on a standby while keeping up with the daily routine.

A throat cleared above him, and Yuugi looked up. Then did a double-take.

“Seto?”

“You seem bored.”

Yuugi let out an awkward laugh. “A little.” Why was it that back in the present, where everything should make sense, he couldn’t find anything meaningful to say to Seto? “You don’t... You don’t drop by here often.”

“I have no reason to.”

Yuugi swallowed. “Right.” He had hoped that perhaps, after their shared experience in the past, Seto might be willing to keep in touch. Even if they weren’t going to resume the closeness they’d shared before. Even if with Atem missing, everything felt strange. Unbalanced.

“I’m not,” Seto started. “I don’t know how to say the right words. Or do the right thing.”

Yuugi’s startled gaze was met with a surprisingly earnest one, and Seto’s hand, light as feather, came to rest on his shoulder. The memory of the last time Seto touched him was so sharp it was an ache, and Yuugi, to his shamed annoyance, felt tears prickling in his eyes.

“I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me,” Yuugi admitted, placing his own hand on top of Seto’s. “I know you don’t like to be reminded of the past.”

“I don’t have to destroy my past to let it go.” A wry smile quirked Seto’s mouth. “Though it took me a while to get that. I owe that much to Atem.”

The mention of Atem’s name was electric, like something being unplugged inside him. The tears slowly rolled down, but Yuugi made no attempt to hide them. “We didn’t even have time to say goodbye.”

Warm fingers brushed away his tears. Yuugi leaned forward just as Seto slid down to a perch next to him, and rested his temple on Seto’s chest. Seto was in his school uniform today, thank God, or the multitude of buckles on his favored coats would have made this quite uncomfortable. The thought made Yuugi smile through his tears, and he relaxed in Seto’s surprisingly gentle embrace.

“Excuse me.”

Seto actually let out an annoyed growl at that, and Yuugi chuckled. “I _do_ have to watch the shop while my grandpa’s out,” he murmured, taking the moment to wipe his eyes before pulling away.

“I’m looking for a game.” The voice was low in timber, masculine, and strangely familiar. “I was hoping you could help me find it.”

Yuugi could only see wild spikes of hair above Seto’s shoulder, but there was a strange tremor in his heart. Like the warm pulse of his deck, he _knew_ this presence. Even while his mind did not, his heart recognized it. Yuugi stepped past Seto, feeling Seto turn around to stand behind him in an almost protective stance. Another step forward, and another. And another.

“...Atem?”

The face, the eyes, all different – yet their expression was breathtakingly familiar. The handsome face broke into a grin. “Oh good, I was afraid I would have to explain.”

“It would be helpful,” Seto said evenly, but Yuugi knew from the way Seto reached for his hand that Seto, too, had recognized Atem.

“There was a reason why I didn’t want to explain,” Atem grumbled, but came closer. “I think going through the past – the second time – released my soul.” Seto raised an eyebrow at the obvious, and Atem sighed, exasperated. “As in, back to the cycle of reincarnation.”

“You don’t look one week old,” Seto pointed out. Being contrary, Yuugi noted with a quiet smile, seemed to restore Seto’s equilibrium quite nicely.

“Because I was reincarnated seventeen years ago,” Atem griped back, and Yuugi could hear the unspoken, _you moron_ at the end. “I just...didn’t remember anything until a week ago.”

A week ago. God. Yuugi felt like banging his head against the wall. “So...all of that was just to... And all this time, _you_ were already around?”

“Not exactly.” Atem glanced from Yuugi to Seto, then back to Yuugi. “Do you remember what I told you about the human soul? In ancient Egyptian theory?”

He did, but it was Seto who answered. “Akh – the living intellect. Reanimated only when the Ka and Ba reunite.”

Just like that, all pieces fell into places. Atem gave them a lopsided smile. “One week ago, I was knocked out with this incredible headache. I didn’t wake up for days. When I woke up, I was disoriented, but...I _remembered_.”

Yuugi let out a long breath, almost afraid to believe. Not so meaningless, after all. Not for nothing. Worth everything, perhaps, that they could all stand here now. Together. 

“You don’t look Egyptian anymore.” Trust Seto to be blunt and to the point, even while in shock. But Yuugi thought it rather meant something else: Atem no longer looked like a carbon copy of his past self, although he and Yuugi still bore uncanny resemblance to each other.

“Neither do you,” Atem replied, and in that instant, something seemed to pass between them, a shared understanding, and acceptance. It was moments like these that made Yuugi remember Seto and Atem had known each other for a long time. “Does it matter?”

The challenging gleam in those blue eyes was so dear, so familiar. Seto straightened, looking down his nose with a smirk, returning the look in spades. “Actually, yes.” Seto’s glance was significant, resting at the belt pouch slung across Atem’s hips, which Yuugi grinned to recognize.

“Ah yes. If I recall correctly, I owed you a rematch, didn’t I?”

“And it’d be a shame if you can’t deliver because you forgot how to duel.” Seto’s eyes raked over him casually, sizing him up as he would to any opponent. Although Yuugi was reasonably sure Seto’s other opponents didn’t get the appreciative once-over as part of the package. “I’ll pick you up here at seven.”

Atem let out an exaggerated sigh. “You’d better at least provide dinner. I do have a curfew, you know.”

Seto gave him a dismissive wave. “I assume you know how to use a phone. I trust staying over at a friend’s house won’t be a problem on a weekend?”

“Is that what they call it these days?” came the blithe reply, accompanied by a raised eyebrow. Seto barked a short laugh, but refused to deign it with an answer. Before he turned, however, Seto surprised Yuugi by casually resting a hand on Yuugi’s cheek.

“See you at seven,” Seto said, and Yuugi felt his heart skip a beat at the promise in his tone.

“Yeah.”

As soon as Seto strode out of the shop, Atem turned to him, an arched brow asking a sardonic question he would never voice. Yuugi shook his head, figuring he could let the sleeping lions lie. Until tonight. “Should I welcome you back?”

Atem shrugged. “This is another life, not coming back to life.” Yuugi nodded; that seemed like all there was to say about the tricky subject of reincarnation. Come to think of it, Seto was the reincarnated self of the ancient priest, Seth. Why had they thought Atem wouldn’t be able to follow the same route?

“You do realize this is going to end up in some bizarre threesome, don’t you?” Yuugi blurted out before he could think better of it.

At that Atem stilled for a moment, then started laughing. “Well, yes. But we’ve lived out all the predestined parts of our lives already. The rest,” Atem said, slipping his hand into Yuugi’s, “is up to us.”

“So after the two of you duke it out tonight, I suppose it will be my turn to duel whoever wins?”

Atem’s smirk was roughish. “You’ll be dueling me, you mean. I can take him anytime.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Yuugi grinned back, feeling playful and alive. “You do realize you’re not the King of Games anymore?”

“Oh please, I can still kick Kaiba’s ass. What does he have that I don’t, anyway?”

Yuugi laughed, letting their joined hands sway between them. “You mean besides three feet in height and sixty pounds in weight?” Seto had quite thoughtfully flipped the store’s sign to CLOSED for them. And he didn’t need conscious thought to navigate their way upstairs, to his – their – room. With gentle tugs, he guided Atem through the stairs and hallway Atem had only been to inside Yuugi’s body, relishing the presence of another body next to his.

“I am _not_ that short,” grumbled Atem as he entered Yuugi’s room.

The door shut behind them, cutting off Yuugi’s amused laughter.

_**FINIS** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Afterword_**
> 
> I may have to add some more historical notes later, but for now – I’m done! Yes, epilogue title was also _**RE:Play**_ , and actually, eponymous for the whole story: rewind, retry, return, reset, recall, and replay.
> 
> This story has a very special place in my heart. Yugioh isn’t my usual or favorite fandom to write for, but this one IS one of my favorite projects to date. It had an unusual writing process, including an extremely detailed story plan that evolved alongside the story itself (which I don’t usually do). I think the end result was a better story, however, so I may try that method again.
> 
> Most important part, though – credits! I’ve already credited [Experimental](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/197005/Experimental)’s _**“[seventeen](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/1530051/1/seventeen)”**_ for the perfect double entendre in Chapter 10. Experimental is one of my favorite writers for several different fandoms and definitely worth checking out.
> 
> More specific to Yugioh, [Vathara](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/77482/Vathara) ’s _**[Roll the Bones](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/1667457/1/Roll-the-Bones)**_ is pretty much the story that changed everything for me, by making me realize Yugioh duels are TOTALLY USABLE for a good fanfiction and actually pretty exciting when done well. Equally importantly, Vathara’s works consist living proof that creating one’s own version of story canon is perfectly lovely as long as it’s consistent. On that note: **_[Foreign xChange!](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/1538942/1/Foreign-xChange)_** and **_[Whistling Past the Graveyard](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/1564457/1/Whistling-Past-the-Graveyard)_**.
> 
> And [Scribbler](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/139401/Scribbler)’s **_[Variation on a Theme](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/2630951/1/Variation-on-a-Theme)_** for just being super special awesome. This is probably my other favorite Yugioh fanfiction. And the reason I will always have a soft spot for Anzu. I don’t usually have such clear favorites in any fandoms, but Vathara’s _Roll the Bones_ and Scribbler’s _Variation on a Theme_ are pretty much It for me. Related stories to _Variation on a Theme_ here: **_[Unforsaken](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/2935491/1/Unforsaken)_** and **_[Fish Out of Troubled Water](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3365168/1/Fish-Out-of-Troubled-Water)_**.
> 
> Thank you so much for all of you who’ve read and followed this fic! And extra serving of love and gratitude to all those who took the time to comment! Sorry I didn’t get a chance to answer all comments, but I really appreciated every single one of them. When I struggled with motivation to revise, your warm comments kept me going.
> 
>  
> 
> _\--Shiraume_


End file.
